Loss and Resolution
by ssapphireangel
Summary: After the Promised Day, Ed is turned into what he never dreamed of becoming. And when he goes to Hogwarts, it is not to search for the Philosopher's Stone, not to regain his humanity, and not to return to his home. EdWin in the end
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

He was chained to the stone ground. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was a blur. Blonde bangs were stuck to his face and he could feel the dry blood on his skin.

It hurt, everywhere.

That was the first thing his mind registered, before his eyes made out the sickly red glow that came from all around.

"No."

He peered around, making out the transmutated black chains, carved out array under him and a man standing in the middle of the crimson light.

He saw four more figures.

Doctor Marcoh, shaking like a leaf, or like the coward who must have done human transmutation. Sensei, kneeling on the ground in a pool of her own blood. Hohenheim, the bastard, who didn't seem conscious. And…

"Nii-san!"

"Al!" he responded, but couldn't clap his hands thanks to the restraints. "Damn it!"

A blow landed on his cheek.

"Shut up, ochibi-san," said an extremely hated voice. "It's starting."

The promised day.

The five sacrifices.

The circle

Ametris was doomed.

"NII-SAN!"

Damn it! He was cursing in his mind. He was not going to let his country become the ingredient for an immortal army. He was not going to let Winry and Pinako and everyone die. He was not going to let anything happen to his brother. He made a promise.

_So what will you do now, Fullmetal?_

He tugged desperately at the chains. He pulled, kicked and twisted but nothing budged. He felt blood trickling into his gloves and metal being scratched.

_Is this the end of all hope?_

He realized the wrist joint of his automail was loose. _Winry is so gonna kill me for this. _He thought as he lifted his fake arm and smashed it on the ground. His nerves were on fire.

A red stone flew out from the sleeve and landed on the ground.

_Heck, everyone's gonna slice me into bits when they find out what I'm about to do._

Edward slammed the stump of his metal arm to the palm of his flesh one. A circle.

A red light, the last of the screams.

And everything was gone.

* * *

He at first was too afraid to open his eyes. The great Fullmetal Alchemist was _afraid._

_Why? _Well, he couldn't feel any pain. He sort of figured that was how the afterlife felt. And even if he did die, he probably be sent to the Gate. And he did _not_ want to go back to the Gate.

What happened to Al? What happened to everyone? What happened to Ametris?

Edward Elric could have, for once in his entire life, prayed.

He opened his eyes.

"Good morning, Mr Alchemist."

And he came face to face with a featureless body, with only a solid arm and leg. His arm and leg.

"Congradulations, you passed."

He gritted his teeth.

"Now, now don't look so angry."

Edward was not convinced. Hard to be when you are conversing with the one who controlled the Gate. The one who took his limbs and his brother's body.

"Ametris is fine. The people are fine. The homunculi won't bother them again. Izumi Curtis is probably searching high and low for the Elric family. Doctor Marcoh will probably commit suiside out of the guilt. Van Hohenheim is where he belongs. There's some news, he's no more the Philosopher's Stone. He's 100% human looking for you and your brother."

"What?" was the only thing that came out of Ed's mouth.

"Ametris' biggest news: The Elric brothers are missing. Other than that, everything's normal."

"_What_?"

The being chuckled.

There was a silence.

"So I'm dead?"

"Half-and-half."

"What?" he said for the third time.

"Half-and-half, Mr Alchemist. Equivalent exchange, there is no such thing. It's simple. You wish, you pay the price. It may be fair, it may not."

"Where's Al?" he asked, suddenly feeling really exhausted.

The being laughed. "Sins cannot be erased, Edward Elric! If you wish for something wrong to become right, you must pay the price!"

The gate swung open.

"Nii-san..."

The bony figure was staring straight at him, accusing eyes jabbing him hard, hurtful.

"You're not my soul..." A finger was pointed at him. "Give back my soul..."

And the Gate was closing again. Now, slow-mo, shutting carefully, squeezing out the malnourished boy's last words.

It came out as clear as day. "NII-SAN, HOW COULD YOU? MY SOUL! YOU ATE MY SOUL!"

Edward's eyes widened. He clutched his golden hair, trembling.

"The sins, Mr Achemist. Your own, your brother's, Hohenheim's, the homunculi's, everything. You bare them in your mind and body."

"No!"

"The soul!" The featureless shadow pointed at him with his own arm. "Sins cannot be erased. It is a PRICE!"

"NO! Nonononono..."

The being laughed. "Edward Elric, you choose to trespass God's territory! You choose to walk down that path!"

The Gate opened again. This time, black hands reached out and grabbed him, lifting him into the darkness of the Gate.

"Until the next promised day, Edward Elric!" The being was grinning widely. "I almost forgot to reintroduce myself! I am known as the 'World', or 'Truth' or 'God'. Most importantly..."

**"I AM YOU!"**

* * *

Edward Elric, 21, Fullmetal Alchemist, ex science professor at the Cambridge University, the new Philosopher's Stone, has recently moved to Little Whinging in Surrey, 4 Privet Drive for research purposes.

But living next to the Boy-who-Lived will surely cause some trouble.

Edward is a trouble magnet. A rather short one, in fact.

He lives in mostly silence these days, hearing only the torment of the sins carved upon his soul.

Silence

And loneliness

The Gate really screwed him good this time.

* * *

**I don't own FMA or HP!**

**Hello. Just to tell you I accept suggestions and constructive critisism. No flames please. Tell me how to improve :)**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Whether I'll be continuing this story depends on REVIEWS!!**

**Thanks :)**

**ssapphireangel**


	2. In Between Dreams

****

Minor editing 18/3/10

Chapter 1 In Between Dreams

You'd think after this mess was over, it'll be a happy ending.

I guess it would be, for them anyway.

* * *

The Truth was indeed a warped figure. He would be what humans call 'insane'. He loved twisting truth and lies to squeeze into humans so that they would wish for selfish things. Manipulative. Nice 'God' to have. Wonderful person to have in front of the Gate (insert sarcasm here).

And now, the Truth found special interest in the used-to-be human, Edward Elric.

He amused him.

Then again, the Truth always had an ulterior motive.

Edward Elric will grant his wish. Truth knew that. Truth knew that he was the only person who could.

Because Edward Elric would never make a selfish wish.

Manipulative, Truth would make sure that everything goes his way. In the end, he will get his amusement and whatever he desires. It's a win win, for him that is.

There will finally be a time when he becomes human.

What about Ed?

Well…

* * *

Edward Elric did not know age.

Physically, he was 16, the same as when he had a chat with Truth, short as ever.

Mentally, he was 33. That's 17 years of torture.

Spiritually, he was…… Who really knows?

Well, Ed wanted to be 21, so he could be old enough to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

This was thanks to Truth, the Gate, stupidity and a whole lot of other mistakes put together.

Mistakes…sins. He got the general theory from Hohenheim and managed to gather the details to solidify everything into a fact.

He was not human anymore.

The promised day, he had too little time. He didn't think everything through. He forgot the fact that he was in a huge array and his little transmutation messed himself up.

Basically, everything was connected.

Firstly, the homunculi. Because they all had a philosopher's stone, they pretty much got absorbed into his soul. Good riddance, actually. But to Ed, it was hell. All the murder, the killing, the corruption etcetera flooded his dreams, his conscious and whenever he wasn't focused on something.

It was just tiring.

Hohenheim's philosopher's stone got absorbed too. Truth decided it was alright to keep him alive, so he is. Hohenheim's clone wasn't so lucky. At least the bastard could enjoy some peace now.

Sensei is probably living a good life. Her sin took away her internal organs. Ed thinks they got replaced with his own, but it was just a theory.

Ed doesn't know what Marcoh gave up. He doesn't wanna know anyway. There wasn't anything missing anyway. (1)

What about Al?

Ed can hear him scream those words in his sleep.

He hears accusation, despair, cries.

It was simple. The blood seal was made from his blood. Al was supposed to regain his body.

If Ed took that sin, he wouldn't be alive. Truth wouldn't get what he wanted.

So Al just got dragged on for the ride.

Because it was Ed's blood that made the seal.

So it's true, Ed concluded.

_My brother hates me._

* * *

Flashback

It doesn't matter if my limbs are gone forever. It doesn't matter if I'm left with half a stomach, and the bottom rest is gone.

Just bring my brother back.

Just let him live the life he deserves.

That life I took away with my stupidity.

Truth's voice then rang in his head, "Come to me again. Come to me and I'll grant your wish."

Ed did not know what that meant.

"You will know soon. Until then, wait for the beacon."

With the last cryptic message, the Truth laughed and seemed to fade from existence.

Ed knew what that meant: it was not yet time.

When it happens

What will happen to Ed?

Well…

Flashback end

* * *

Hohenheim taught him how to control the philosopher's stone. But Ed would rather clap his hands. Force of habit, he insists.

Fored him to forget, to push everything to the back of his mind.

After two years, Hohenheim said he had some big business to take care of. He told him he'll be back, but maybe for a year or so.

And he left again.

Edward probably hates his father's guts now.

So Ed also left.

Fifteen years of passport forgery, first to Oxford, then to Harvard, then Yale, maybe Stanford and lastly, Cambridge.

He was very clever. Because he didn't enter the schools as a student, but as a teacher.

Always researching, always learning, Edward could have studied more than most of the students he taught.

Waiting, waiting, waiting

For that stupid beacon

Living, yet not living. Breathing, yet holding his breath.

Self-hate, pain, despair, more hate, more pain, sorrow

Loneliness

But Edward Elric would not cry.

* * *

He stared helplessly at the jar of cookies placed on the top shelf. He reached, tiptoed and stretched the hell out of his automail but never got within ten centimeters reach. Ed slipped back down and sighed.

"Better get used to it. Gonna remain short forever," he muttered miserably in German.

The person who put the cookies on the top shelf was his helper (free labourer) who claimed Edward shouldn't eat too many sweets. Alfons (2) was busy moving stuff from the truck. Edward decided he wasn't going to help.

"Teach, where does these go?" Alfons yelled, also in German.

The reasons why he is Ed's only friend was that he was German, could tolerate Ed's temper and how much he looked like grown up Alphonese.

That was what probably shoved Ed forward. Just a little more and your brother could be here, growing up like Alfrons did. Just a little more.

"Upstairs!"

The door slammed and there was the loud thumping of feet on steps.

There was a complain. "You have too much stuff for a shorty!"

And the doorbell rang.

* * *

"We're going to greet the new neighbour now!" Mr Dursley hollowed.

Mrs Dursley had even baked a cake.

Dudley was looking greedily at it.

Harry Potter was thinking how much he didn't want to be here.

Vernon pointed at Harry with a porky finger. "Boy, the new neighbour happens to be an ex-professor from the top university in America. He could get Dudley a place there. You will not mess this up," he warned.

Harry could smell that morning's breakfast from his breath.

"Carry the cake, Harry," Petunia said as she trotted out of the house.

There was a huge truck parked next door.

And they pressed the doorbell.

* * *

"Get the door!" yelled Alfons.

Edward abandoned his attempt in getting the cookie jar.

The door opened.

_Is that a walrus chimera?_ Was Ed's first thought.

"Er...Can I help you?" Ed asked, taking a tiny step back.

"We just came by to say hello," a horse woman said. "I'm Petunia Dursley."

And she gestured at the walrus dad and son.

But the last boy was the one that caught Ed's attention. "Harry Potter, my nephew," horsy said. "We brought a cake."

"Danke. I'm Edward Elric."

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU PUT IN THAT BOX? ROCKS?" Alfons yelled from the top floor, in German.

"THOSE ARE FOR LIGHT READING!"

"THAT WASN'T LIGHT!"

"WAIT TILL YOU SEE MY RESEARCH NOTES!"

There was an amplified groan. Alphonse won't yell that much, truthfully.

But alternate universe Al did.

Alphonse used to yell in mother hen mode.

Wait for the beacon. Wait for the beacon. _This time, I won't break my promise. This time, I'll get you back._

And perhaps this monster will disappear for good when that happens.

* * *

Harry saw alot of things in the suppositely top university teacher's eyes.

When he opened the door, he noticed eyes like molten gold.

Then came curiosity.

When the yelling in German came, there was a little spark.

Then came a flame.

Then an overwhelming sadness.

"We won't bother you in your unpacking then," Aunt Petunia said. "But please have the cake."

Uncle Vernon prodded Harry's shoulder. He stumbled and presented the box to the blonde.

"Danke," Edward said.

And the door closed.

Harry went back with a lot of things to ponder on.

Firstly, he had never seen those eyes. Could that Elric be a wizard? But he was a university professor. A muggle university professor. But...

Dudley burst out, "How could he be a teacher? He looks like a kid!"

For once, Harry agreed.

* * *

Edward had been thinking. He had been waiting and waiting for the beacon. How long more? Truth just loved making his life hell with twisting facts. There weren't any clues, any signs, any anything. What was the beacon? Was it a thing? A signal? A symbol? A picture of that scrawny kid suddenly flashed in his mind.

Could the beacon be a person?

No way. It couldn't be that kid. Not in a million years. He couldn't stand the fact that someone else had to be dragged into his problems.

The people who got dragged into his problems also got dragged into his mistakes. And no one met a happy end. Just 10 feet underground.

Like Hughes.

"NO WAY!" Alfons yelled from outside the door.

Ed sighed, got up and headed for the truck.

"You bought a piano?"

At that moment, Ed couldn't think of a reason to why he bought a pristine white grand piano. So he said, "I'm not carrying that inside."

Alfons laughed heartily.

* * *

"I can't believe you actually listened to me."

"You were right. I needed a way to de-stress."

"You know how to play right?"

"Of course! Sheesh Al, I'm not that stupid!"

Ed froze immediately when he realized he referred to his little brother. He looked down and stared at the keys.

The screaming would start anytime now.

"Hey, Teach, you never talk to other students like you do to me."

Ed jumped.

"Ed, why do you always look at me like you've done something wrong?"

He was so much like Al. The way he spoke, almost everything was the same.

There was silence and Ed prodded the keys. Making a note each time.

"Damn, I need to go. My flight's in two hours so I gotta go pack." Ed looked up to see Alfons peering at his watch.

"Oh..."

Inside, there was a huge part of him that said, _Don't leave little brother. Stay here_.

Alfons patted him on the back and headed for the door.

"Seriously, Teach, loosen up." He switched to American speak. He groaned. "I'm gonna miss you. You were the least boring teacher at school."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Ed grinned.

"I wanted to say shortest."

Alfrons turned to the truck.

"You'll probably be sadder when I'm gone."

Ed's eyes widened. Where did_ that _come from?

"So, take care. Remember to call, email, snail-mail, whatever. Bye."

He was just an inch to the truck door.

"Hey Al."

"What?"

"Could you call me 'Nii-san'?"

Alfrons shot him a questioning look. He grinned. "Bye, Nii-san!"

* * *

Mr Al-che-mist

It is time.

Just a little longer. Soon, both our wishes will be granted.

* * *

Harry Potter was infuriated. He was stuck at a place he did not want to be and his so-called friends hardly mailed him any info. Why the heck did he have to go back every summer? He could stay with Sirius, he could stay with the Weasleys.

And Voldemort was on the move and he was sitting and twiddling thumbs.

He decided to head to the park to let off steam.

As he stepped further away from 'home', he heard music coming from next door. A melody of many notes, growing louder and softer at the right moments, faster and slower at different times. So many beautiful cords, so..._ wow_, was what Harry could think of.

A piano. Sad and sorrowful.

* * *

Truth spoke again.

Ed's joints ached. It was pain everywhere, again. He really wanted to punch Truth in the face. Sometimes, he wished everything would just end. Then Alfons showed up. Seeing him there made him move on. Seeing his brother again, without him, without the suit of armor, without alchemy or the Gate or the warped worlds bothering him.

It made him want to search harder.

So all he thought was, _just a little longer_. Ed sighed. Well, 'a little longer' is taking forever. He grabbed his coat and headed out.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. England was very, very, very cold. Not good for automail. A wrench appeared in his mind.

_I miss Winry._

Then Ed saw the boy sitting on a swing. Messy black hair and emerald eyes. He looked pretty annoyed, for a kid. Had that nasty scrowl Ed used to have, which was probably not good for health.

"Harry, was it?" he said. _Play nice, Ed, he could be the beacon._

"Yea." Harry looked up.

"So, I can see your relatives hate you. Your parents sent you there because of bad grades or something?" Ed acted casual.

"I'm an orphan."

"Oh..." _Nice one, Ed. _He mentally hit himself. "Well my mom died when I was five. I don't know where my father is now. Not that I cared." He sat on the swing beside him. "Just so you know, I am an actual ex-professor from Cambridge. I just haven't hit the growth spurt yet. I major in science and sucking up to me with cake does not work."

Harry chuckled, all cheered up. "You play the piano?"

"You heard?"

"It was really...awesome."

"Thanks." Ed scratched his chin with a gloved hand.

There was a silence. The only sound was the squeaking of the swings.

"Harry Potter, do you believe in God?"

Harry looked up, shocked. Edward's voice had turned deeper, lined with age and a certain darkness. His eyes had turned blacker and his hair hung limply in that ponytail. For a moment, Harry reached for his wand. What stopped him was the thought that Ed was a muggle.

He stood up. "I better get going if I want dinner before it's dark. Seeya, Harry."

* * *

Ed sighed as he walked. What was he doing? There was no way.

There was no way that kid was the beacon. Harry was full of innocence and 'good stuff'. And Ed was not 'good'. He was not human. He was the Philosopher's stone, the greatest mistake, all the sins put together.

"I'm getting desperate."

_If I gotten any closer, he would get closer to his death._

Edward laughed. "A monster, Truth, isn't it?"

* * *

There was a chill. An unnatural freeze. Glass turned foggy and cracked slightly. Not a good omen.

Ed turned to see Harry and Dudley running to a tunnel.

He groaned, he always had this hero complex that stuck with him through the Gate and all the misfortunes.

He walked to the end of the tunnel.

"Harry!" he called. "Walrus' kid!"

"RUN!"

The next moment Ed was grabbed by the neck and pressed against a wall. He kicked and punched but his fists only met a black cloak. And a hood.

He saw the homunculi's lives. The killing, the war, the fire, the blood, the screams, the shot of a gun that triggered the Ishvalan war. And the visions repeated, again and again.

And he saw what he never wanted to see again in his life. The night when he did human transmutation. The mass of organs that was supposed to be his dear mother. The creature that wheezed and squelched, blood pooling.

_Why couldn't you make me right?_

_NII-SAN!_

_Would you pway with me, big brother?_

_YOU ATE MY SOUL!_

_NII-SAN! I HATE YOU!_

There was a scream. Just Ed didn't know it came from his own mouth. Emotions got out of control and alchemy activated, sending stone spikes to the creature. The dementor shrieked and Ed was dropped beside Harry.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery white stag emerged and charged. Ed then slammed his hands together. A stone wall appeared and covered the whole end of the tunnel.

"How did you do that?" was always the first question.

Edward was hyperventilating. He stared at nothing, trying to keep himself from seeing black.

_Al, I'll get you back. I'll definitely get you back. The price doesn't matter. I'll get you back. I must get you back._

_It doesn't matter if I disappear._

_A monster shouldn't exist in the first place._

His eyes flickered to Harry. So he's the beacon?

_No, no, no, Mr Alchemist. He's not the beacon. The beacon is coming. The beacon will come to you._ Truth cackled.

_I'm the beacon. _A girl's voice whispered, sweet, like the sound of an angel.

Then Edward was pulled into a whiteness with the gory visions replaying. Again and again.

There was pain everywhere, again.

_You'll be sadder when I'm gone._

Al, don't leave me alone again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. For what I did. I'm sorry. It's my fault.

No where to go.

No where to run.

No where to hide.

* * *

(1) Marcoh's not very important so I decided his sin was some sort of mental thing. And Ed is already VERY messed up. Don't need to add to his pain (I feel super horrible about that).

(2) Yes, Alfons. I loved him in the movie (why did he have to die???!!). I made him a louder in character I guess. He's there to provide comfort (The whole piano thing).

Ed may seem OOC I think. But it's been 17years of hell, there has to be some sort of desperate-ness and denial, I think.

**Hello**

**I'm really greatful to all my reviewers :) THANK YOU!!!**

**So, I don't own FMA or HP. I really want to, though. Any questions? Suggestions? Improvements? I'm open, just no flames. **

**I'm sort of having this goal thingy. I'm hoping to reach 50 reviews before chapter 5. Please make my dream come true :)**

**ssapphireangel **


	3. Road of Life

****

MAJOR Editing: 24/3/10

Chapter 2 Road of Life

Ed thought by that time he would have gotten used to it. Horror used to come to him on a regular basis. There was an aching cold in his bones. He knew he was supposed to be in pain but he really couldn't feel it. Like he could feel only large doses of pain. What was the word for it?

Numbness.

"What sort of trouble have you gotten into this time?" a voice asked simply.

"Go away," he murmured.

"You need a lot of distraction, Fullmetal Alchemist," the voice said.

Ed had already begun chanting formulas in his head.

"Edward, open your eyes but don't wake up."

He then felt like he was dropped from a fifty feet height.

Ed gasped and found himself face to face with a girl. Black hair, very pale skin and a long white dress. She was beautiful, so beautiful, she looked fake. She was sitting on the ground of that white space. However, there was no Gate, no Truth. Just whiteness. He then realized he was wearing a black top and black pants. No gloves, no shoes. His hair was untied, golden bangs hanging freely.

"You really are short," was the first thing she said.

"WHO DID YOU SAY WAS A MICROSCOPIC SHORT BEAN THAT DOESN'T SHOW UP IN YOUR EYES?!"

"Just like how he described." The girl gave a laugh that sounded like wind chimes.

"What?"

"Truth."

"What?" Ed was saying that a lot lately.

"Don't you get it yet?" The girl was staring at him intently.

"You're…you're the beacon!" He pointed at her in surprise.

"Who'd you expect?" she snapped.

"_Winry_," he murmured inaudibly.

There was a stunned silence.

"You'll meet me soon, Ed. As soon as I get out of here," the girl said.

"So why meet me now?"

She smirked. "To give you a hint, alchemist."

Ed perked up, knitting his eyebrows together.

"There is a last puzzle piece. All those sins, but you need something more. A maimed soul."

"What?"

"That's what the Truth said. Only then I can bring you to the gate for the exchange."

"How am I supposed to find something like that? And _you_ can open the gate?"

"Your problem."

"That's hardly a hint, woman."

She laughed. "I'm not human, Edward. I don't open the Gate. I belong to the Gate. I am from the Gate. That's why I'm the beacon. I'm a part of the Gate."

Ed groaned. "Okay… So I need another sin? What's up with Truth? I'm not tortured enough yet?"

"Truth's gone nuts. But he knows what he's doing. He has to gather the greatest sins in the two worlds in one place; in a single container is the more appropriate term. Then everything will be purified in one shot."

"What's that got to do with getting Al back?"

"It is said that a wish would be granted then."

"And the price is my suffering?"

She thought for a moment. "Something like that. Truth just said that if you do accordingly your wish would be granted."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

* * *

Harry was absolutely confused. First, he and Dudley almost got their souls sucked out by dememtors that were probably sent by Voldemort. Second, the new neighbour Edward Elric showed up and used some wandless magic before passing out. Third, Mrs Figg, another neighbour, appears and said something about being a squib and knowing Dumbledore. Now, they were lugging back one huge and one short body.

"I'll take care of Elric at the moment," Mrs Figg said. "Don't leave the house. Good night."

She left and Harry had a million questions that god-knows-when would get their answers.

* * *

Ed had fallen asleep again. He at first wondered how he could sleep when he was already sleeping. The answer was that he was dreaming.

"How do you feel?"

He flexed his automail arm. It was shiny like new, just having a lot of scratches and chipped off areas. "My dreams were happy for once."

There was no reply. He sat up and saw her biting her lip.

"Nothing is that simple."

"Especially with that guy for a God. It is never that simple."

Ed stared at the girl's eyes. For a sudden, she looked so familiar. But at the same time looking like part of a dream. How her fringe parted and her hair spilling over a shoulder. Her eyes spoke of an unmeasurable sadness. He then realized. She looked so fake because her real self is hiding behind a shell. It's probably Truth's fault again.

"Then why are you helping him?" he asked.

"Because I was once human, like you. And you, only you can help me find what I'm looking for."

"What do you mean?"

"I must have met you when I lived. I must have. I know you. It is the only reason why I feel like I wanted to know you a little longer."

"Wait..." he tried to call out.

"Wake up, Edward Elric." _Wake up, Edo-kun._

"I can't remember any names. All I know was that you were once very precious to me."

You can't stay stuck in a dream forever. Awaken and...

_It seems like my whole life was a dream._

* * *

At Mrs Figg's house, Ed was trashing on the couch in a nightmare. He was burning up and sweating, but trembling like it was the coldest day in the winter.

"The Order better arrive soon," she muttered. "This boy needs to go to St Mungo, I know it."

In the empty house, Harry was in deep thought. Ed seemed to be in worse shape than Dudley, but he couldn't leave the house to check on him. He was stuck here, maybe getting expelled from the place he loved most. He was stuck here with almost no information. The Dursleys left for some lawn competition (that was so stupid), his room was a complete mess and he was messing up his hair in frustration.

"Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?"

He raised his wand. Footsteps seemed to echo in the silence of the empty house.

"It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away."

His heart almost leaped out. "Professor Lupin?"

The lights came on.

"Got your broom, Harry?" Tonks asked. She flicked her wand and everything began stuffing themselves into the trunk. "Okay, let's go."

"What about Edward?" he asked.

"Who?"

"You know, Edward Elric. Isn't he with you?"

Tonks raised an eyebrow questionably. "There's no Edward Elric in the Or..." She was shushed by Moody in the end.

"Not here, Nymphadora!"

"_Don't _call me Nymphadora!"

"What's going on, Harry?" Lupin asked.

Harry told them the whole dementor incident. With details, of course. The red lightning, the stone spikes and the huge wall that blocked the whole tunnel.

"We better take him with us," Lupin was the first to speak after a silence.

"What if he's a Dea..." Moody began, his eye was whizzing around its socket.

"Then why would he save Harry?" a new voice said, sounding slightly amused. It was a girl, leaning against the wall. The girl who interrupted Moody.

"To get on our side..."

"Edward's not a Death Eater, Mad-eye," she cut in.

"Yeah," Harry said. "He's a muggle university professor."

The girl chuckled.

At Mrs Figg's house, the situation wasn't getting any better. The boy had woken, but he was panting and feverish. His eyes were blank and lifeless, golden and unfocused. His hair seemed to be less gold and more dark. The bags under his eyes stood out on his too pale skin. And the Aurors came in.

"You're here," Mrs Figgs said. "He isn't looking too good."

Lupin stared at the shivering body. "We're gonna need a barrel of chocolate."

"Aren't you a healer? Can you fix him?" Tonks asked the un-introduced girl whose smile faded away.

She knelt on the ground in front of Edward, her dark hair hanging over their faces like a curtain.

"Why aren't you awake? Do you wish to see those nightmares rewind and replay again?" she whispered into his ear. "I finally come to get you and meet me like this?"

The response was only steady breathing. Edward's eyes closed and he slumped forward, unconscious again.

The girl turned. "We need someone skilled in Legilimency for this."

"That bad?" Lupin asked.

"It's terrible."

_He can really make wounds reopen again_.

* * *

After the freezing flight, the Aurors, Ed, Harry and the beacon finally landed at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Greeted by Mrs. Weasley with a rib-cracking hug, then came hushed words and being shoved upstairs because 'the meeting is only for members of the Order'. Harry didn't know what the Order was. Edward was still stuck in nightmares, shivering and trashing a little.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley gasped.

Lupin looked flustered.

The unnamed girl gave a shrug. "Bring him to the meeting."

Moody began to protest.

"Dumbledore and Snape are there. They're both Legilimency specialists. They can help. _Then _you can interrogate the hell out of him."

There was a muttered agreement. "We can't trust _you_ either," Moody growled.

"You don't have to, Mad-eye." She gave a glare and walked to the meeting room. There seemed to be a rush of cold air behind her. As Harry walked up, everything seemed to run slow-mo and he could hear a rustling sound and the small tingling of a bell.

"Edward, Edward, you can't die yet. Don't make me boot you back onto the road of life." But that wasn't her voice. It didn't sound anything like the girl's usual melodious tone.

* * *

**_Flashback_**

Edward thought he didn't have to remember that again. Nightmares came after good dreams. He was walking on the stone streets of Munich, Germany, heading back to the small apartment his father owned. It was the day after that bastard left, again. Ed didn't care. His hands stuffed into his pockets and the usual scowl on his face, he turned into an alley. A shortcut.

Usually, when people like him enter dark, deserted places, they get into a whole lot of trouble.

He remembered being hit on the head, hard.

When golden eyes opened, he was in some sort of room, tied roughly. Everything was blurry. It was night, dark, moonless. There was a single candle, burning bright.

Ed realized he was shirtless, and one arm was gone.

He saw a man, shadowed, featureless with a insane smirk on his face. There was a knife in his hand.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? LET GO OF ME, DAMN IT!"

It was a carving knife.

The man let it rest on the flame until it turned glowing red.

Ed struggled with the binds, but it was useless. Somehow, he felt little fear, more of reluctance and a sense that it was all meant to be. That was the time Ed felt that fate really existed. As the knife left the flame, red hot, he saw the smile. Oh, that familiar smile.

"Edward Elric, receive the legacy of Life and Death."

He paniked and started squirming again, yelling profanities and curses.

The knife was brought down and he could only scream in pain as it dug into his flesh, splitting skin in dragging motions.

"Edward, Edward, remember your promise. Remember your wish. Everything that happens from now is part of the price you must pay." That wish, it was like to bring someone dead back to life, wasn't it? His wish was illegal. But he was sure Truth could make it real. Truth claimed he was God. He could bring his brother back.

Ed could feel fresh blood trickling over his shoulder. "Edward, Edward, don't die yet."

And he blacked out.

That day, when he awoke, he felt like he just came back from hell.

He found himself in a pool of his own blood.

He found out that the man had vanished from existence.

He found out that the scars left were parts of an alchemy array.

He found himself in his own apartment.

And in Hohenheim's room.

* * *

**_Flashback end_**

"Edward!" the girl began. "Why the _hell _are you still here?" She was standing, looking more intimidating. Looking a lot like Winry with a wrench.

"I donno..." He didn't have an excuse.

She raised a hand to hit him, but before it could reach his cheek it trembled. Tears were flowing out of her eyes.

"Do you like pain? Do you love nightmares?" She made an agonizing face. "Don't you want it all to go away?"

"Yea...But...Just that..."

"I don't know, Ed. I want to hit you but there's something inside me..."

She smiled, still crying.

That smile. That smile. It is familiar. Ed knew it. Ed knew that smile.

That gentleness.

The beacon looked at his glassy gaze. Maybe, for once Truth was actually telling the truth.

She sighed. "Ed, you must wake up." Even her voice was getting familiar. Ed didn't quite remember mostly because she was yelling like Winry earlier. "You can't keep getting stuck in the past."

"I know." His shirt had mysteriously vanished and his mismatched arm stood out.

"Beacon...This place brings me so much closer to Al."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore pitied the boy in front of him. A dementor had never affected someone this bad. It was like he was souless, yet still having a soul. Still breathing, still there in his mind. His memories must be so very horrible. Dumbledore raised his wand.

He said the spell loudly, before being dragged into the white world.

The only word that described it was 'fascinating'. One's mind was never like that. It seemed so simple, yet so complex. He wondered how he could stand when there was no floor.

"Oh Al-che-mist!"

Dumbledore had a feeling that voice wasn't talking to him. He wondered how could the voice come from the ceiling, when there was no ceiling. He never knew one's mind was so much like an oversized room. Dumbledore walked, hoping to get somewhere eventually. His midnight blue robes trailed behind him.

In front of him, appeared a boy with golden hair. His back faced Dumbledore, he saw all that fine scars that disfigured the poor boy. He spotted a glint of metal and was even more intrigued. The boy was so young, looking like a torture victim and even lost a limb.

_I'M NOT SHORT! _rang out as clear as day. The blonde didn't like to be pitied, Albus could hear.

"Oh Al-che-mist!"

Ed was annoyed now.

"You see your brother in memories. Even if it hurts, you would rather be with him in this way than not at all."

"Stuff it, Truth," Edward muttered. "This way I can move on." Albus Dumbledore was getting more and more interested.

"This is why you interest me the most! How amusing you can be, for a mortal."

Ed snorted at the last word.

He fingered to his back. "You haven't told me what these were for."

Truth's voice laughed. "To you, an array. To me, a seal. A seal to your fate. Tell me, Alchemist, do you believe in fate?"

"No." Ed felt a rush of pain from his back.

There was only more laughter. And laughter. And laughter.

"Might you be Edward Elric?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

Ed turned. "What are you doing here, old man?"

"I suppose you could say, 'Bringing you back to the world of the living'?"

Ed looked annoyed. "How are you _supposed_ to do that?"

"Magic."

"The only magic is alchemy. And that's not even magic. Just science," he said it like it was the only fact in the world.

"Say, Edward. Would you walk with me on the old road of life?" Dumbledore asked. To him, the whole situation was like the bridge between the two totally different entities.

Ed looked at him like he was crazy. "There's nothing here, old man!"

"How can you be so sure?"

Ed shook his head in denial. "There's nothing here and there will never be."

The voice was back, free of laughter, chanting, "Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing."

"Would you consider an offer to my magic school, Hogwarts?"

"Magic?" Ed was very unbelieving.

"Witchcraft and Wizardry, actually." The old man was grinning harder that ever.

"Get out of here and I'll think about it, old man."

Dumbledore vanished with a smile like he had scored a total victory.

* * *

"Poor dear...sniff... He's so young..."

"Molly, the shrimp will be fine. Dumbledore'll take care of him."

Ed's eyes flew open. He rubbed the back of his head. _My back hurts like shit_. Was all he thought.

Then he glared fiercely at the crowd. "Call the person who called me a shrimp. I'm gonna punch him in the face."

* * *

Maybe it was all necessary

But scars never fade

* * *

**I'm such a angsty person... But a little blood is needed, and Truth is really mean.**

**Review lots :) I love you guys for it.**

**ssapphireangel**

* * *

24/3/10 Author's Note

I have a question: Are you guys sort of are interested to what happens next? I just wanna know whether my story arouses curiousity. That's why everything is all very vaugue now. If you don't understand, send me questions.

There's a lot of secrets to unveil, actually. Like the part that the OC is actually not an OC, but is still an OC. I decided to tell you guys now (actually wanted to reveal it later but now seems like a good time). You can review me your guesses....I'm super keen to know what my readers are thinking. No flames, though, it'll crush my resolve.

As this is my first story, I need a lot of encouragement......help me out here :)

ssapphireangel

About the "OC":

She's really very gentle. Truth is actually making her different from her original human self because to him it will make things more interesting and interesting means more difficult for Ed. So the beacon's 'fierceness' make her a little like Winry, but it only happens when Ed does something stupid. However, as she gets closer to Ed, it will eventually disappear. Her 'human nature' isn't originally like that after all.

In conclusion, Truth is the ultimate bad guy here. You just can't defeat him (maybe).

GUESS WHO IT IS!!! I may PM you yes or no... or not at all...

I'll delete the original chapter soon. Thks for the support :)


	4. A Single Bluebird

**Chapter 3 A Single Bluebird**

Edward sat up, feeling sore. Almost immediately, he found sticks pointed at him. In fact, the only people not trying to poke him were the beacon and the old crackpot. He stared at them and they stared at him. He then peered around, first at the room for escape routes if needed, second at the people.

Ed concluded that he didn't like the greasy haired guy more than the weird eye dude.

Then he said, "I could punch you all except the ladies who obviously didn't just call me _short_." He spat out the last word. It wasn't his fault that he could no longer grow.

They looked angry, some glancing at the old man. He must be the 'Furher' of the lot. None of them lowered their pieces of wood.

"What's with the sticks?" he asked, getting more pissed by the second.

"Is he a muggle?" Sirius asked.

"Ah, I'm sure he possesses a magic of his own," Dumbledore chuckled. "Just like her, who can heal just by touching." His eyes flickered to the beacon.

_Weird, it's like everyone's deliberately not saying her name._ Ed thought.

"She can't be trusted, Albus," Mad-eye growled. The beacon rolled her eyes.

"I trust her, Alastor," Dumbledore said gravely. "Our business is strictly political and confidential." Everyone stiffened. Ed was observing, trying to pick out weak spots in case things were to get messy. Dumbledore smiled. "So Edward, have you considered my offer?"

Ed immediately said, "No."

The old man chuckled. Edward knitted his eyebrows and clenched his fists. This headmaster reminded him of a certain someone who thought everything to be amusing.

That's right, to the Truth, everything was a game.

"The existence of 'magic' is impossible. It goes against the laws of equivalent exchange," Ed said, receiving weird glances and raised eyebrows. "I'm a scientist and legally an adult."

Illegally actually. If he was his real age, he'll be in a retirement home, sort of.

"What if we provided proof?" Dumbledore asked, flicking his wand at a chair. It floated off the ground.

Edward was clenching his fists so hard they trembled and biting his lower lip. His body ached all over, automail joints the most. And his back, those scars throbbed painfully. He had a massive headache and his vision was filled with black spots. And his stomach hurt. He felt like throwing up, but there was nothing to puke out, except blood.

After a long period of silence, he finally said, "If I go to this school, what would I get in return?"

"Well, Hogwarts does have the biggest library in the wizarding world." It was like Dumbledore knew him inside out.

Edward sighed. "Fine. But I'm gonna need my research notes." A glint appeared in his eyes. "_All_ my research notes."

"Done. You'll depart for Diagon Alley to get your materials," Dumbledore said. "Details would be sent to you via owl."

"One more thing, old man," Ed said, suspicious. "What did you see in my mind?"

Albus chuckled. "Nothing, my dear boy. All your memories were blocked."

In the military, treason was common. Anyone could just backstab you just because you hold a higher rank. Look at Mustang; he tried to overthrow the Furher. The only thing Ed learnt was that those betrayers got close to their enemies. To find the perfect moment, to watch them, or even to hold them hostage.

Ed can't trust anyone.

Anyone could be a second Envy. Anyone could want to create a huge transmutation circle out of your country to create an immortal army.

His stomach hurt but he refused to leave his 'guest room' (prison cell, he called it) for dinner. Edward couldn't eat anything. Half his stomach was gone, solid food would be puked out. Cookies were the exception. The room was a dump. Dark with simple furniture. Ed didn't bother to turn on the lights. He heard yells from outside from Harry. He swallowed his saliva. The headache wouldn't go away.

This 'magic', it exists.

_I tried so hard. _Ed thought. _Al and I did so much. Now there's a short cut. Then wasn't everything for nothing?_

_Al gave his life, his soul. Was _that_ for nothing?_

The mere thought of it frustrated him. All his brother's efforts in vain. Ed could see the accusing finger pointed at him. And it ripped him to shreds.

And he laughed. Ed laughed the way Truth would laugh when he saw this soap opera. "You must really hate your brother now, don't you Al?"

His laugh faded to feeble giggles.

_Al, if you hate me now then when I bring you back you won't feel sad, right? _

_Right now, probably no one would miss me if I die. _

Agony withered into despair. Then Ed's stomach flipped and he gagged blood onto the floor.

Gazing blankly at the crimson splatter, he finally fell on the bed and passed out.

Ed was woken by the rays of sunlight peeping from the holes in the black curtains. It seems nothing had been washed for a very long time in that house. He felt a whole lot better, as if a good night's sleep did the trick. It was strange, though, there were no dreams, no nightmares and just blackness. The only bad thing was that his back was on fire, as if Truth was purposely reminding him about 'fate' and other stuff Ed did not want to remember.

He yawned.

There was a knocking on the door, lightly, like it was just to check whether he was awake.

"Ed..."

He opened the very creaky door and the beacon rushed inside and shut it quickly.

"Morning?" he said, or asked.

The beacon gave a small smile and a warm familiar feeling rushed through him.

"I have a lot to explain," she began. "Not much time, actually. People would be suspicious if they saw us together."

"We're not supposed to know each other, right?" Ed yawned again.

"Ed, close your mouth!" she scolded.

"So, you can start with what's going on with you and the Bumblebore guy."

"Dumbledore, Ed. He's helping me search, you know. I want to know who I am. In return, I'm helping him protect Harry."

"What does Harry have to do with this?" Ed then frowned. "I'm not having him involved with this. I won't allow the whole Hughes incident to happen again."

"No more meaningless death, right?" she said softly, sadly. "But it's too late. Harry Potter is the one that will lead you to the maimed soul."

Ed tensed up. "What is Truth playing at?!" he yelled. "Nina, Hughes and even my little brother! He CAN'T JUST MESS WITH HUMAN LIVES!"

The beacon flinched. She didn't think that Ed would flare up like that. But when she saw that much anger and pain in his eyes, she felt like she needed to calm him down, to at least stop his suffering with an embrace. The beacon had been watching him for a long time, but she felt like she knew so much more about him.

Edward saw her biting her lip in a confused expression.

"Hey, Ed. Do you consider yourself as human?" She touched his shoulder, but he swept her hand away.

"Well, I got over that part a long time ago. Truth wants to mess with me; I just don't like him dragging others down into his dirty game."

She looked into his golden orbs. Ed then realized her eyes were not black, but the darkest grey. "Someone tells me that you should stop being so lonely."

He scowled, thinking and a deep line appeared on his forehead, in between his eyes.

"Go down for breakfast, you didn't eat anything last night," she muttered, turning to the door. Then, she sighed. "Continue walking and soon you'll find a path where Truth cannot interfere, Edward. If you go against fate hard enough, you can shatter it. Remember that as long as Truth gets his victory, whether your end is a tragic or happy one doesn't matter to him." She opened the door and glanced at him with a smile. "Everything is all crazy now, but to continue walking is what we all can do right now. You still have two good legs, right? Even though one of them badly needs maintenance right now."

Ed flexed his automail leg and found it squeaking. "You're not Winry, right?" he asked.

"I don't know. Just for now, my name is Ai."

Ed got dressed and went for breakfast. He received weird stares at the table and a Mrs. Weasley fussing over how skinny he was. He downed a few glasses of orange juice and refused everything else until Ai requested porridge as he 'didn't look too well'.

He didn't talk much. He barely let anyone touch him. He glared at people who stared at him too much.

Ed was the last to leave the breakfast table as everyone else had to go clean up Doxys. _Weird_, was all he thought. No one talked to him and he didn't talk to them. He then mentally admitted he was a loner and went back to his room.

Then Ai picked him up to go to some place called Diagon Alley. "To get books," she said. "Robes, a pet and a wand."

Edward had to buy a personalized stick. He thought sarcasm in his mind. "Oh, joy," he groaned.

Ai smacked him.

It has been quite a while since Edward was around crowds of people. He heard parts of their conversations and found them all weird. Then again, they were wizards. Diagon Alley was like Rush Valley, just that people there were automail fanatics.

Getting books was not a problem. Dumbledore had kindly put Ed in Harry's year, even though he was secretly twice their age. No one could say that he wasn't the right height for his age now.

"People in England are too tall," he told Ai, who laughed lightly.

Next was robes. That was the problem.

"I'm NOT wearing a dress!" he half-yelled.

Ai gave him a 'Winry' glare. Ed knew she had entered his life somehow before, but she seemed to be a part of every girl he knew. Sometimes Winry, sometimes Rose, sometimes Ross, sometimes Hawkeye, maybe even Lan Fan.

She paid eventually. Next was the stick.

To tell the truth, Ed was expecting a wacky old man to sell him his wand. He was measured and slapped by the floating measuring tape and Ollivander peered at him. He was muttering something under his breath and soon went to the back of the shop and brought out a stack of boxes.

He waved the 'stupid stick' and something exploded. The wand snapped.

"Sorry," he muttered.

The second stick didn't break, but it exploded something else.

He flicked the third stick more carefully, and the lights from the ceiling came crashing down.

He picked up the fourth and a vase broke. Ed got tired of apologizing. It happened a lot more times. I must have broken everything in this shop, he thought.

"What violent reactions," Ollivander chuckled. "There was only one person before who had that sort of magical reaction, just not a potent. A wand chose him in the end though. I wonder...?" Ed was getting annoyed as the old man muttered under his breath some more. "Something sturdier," he said before turning to the back and picking out another box.

"Why am I here again?" Ed asked Ai, who smacked him.

"How about ironwood, Mr. Elric?" Ollivander handed him a wand. "15 inches, Thestral hair."

He picked it up cautiously and twirled it in his fingers. There was nothing at first before warmth spread through his fingertips and white sparks danced. There was a cold breeze that lasted for a second, and everything was silent.

"Ah, a match. Rather strange. I hardly sold any wands made of ironwood. The previous was sold around ten years ago. A difficult one, broke a few wands too. Could you be related to him, Mr. Elric? Ironwood, 12 inches, phoenix tail feather. A Mr. Hohenheim."

Ed twitched and clenched his fists. "Never heard of him in my life," he said.

Ollivander chuckled.

"You are the worse liar," Ai said.

"I hate that bastard. You can't do anything about it," he snapped.

"An owl, a toad or a cat. Owls deliver your mail. Choose one."

Ollivander watched the two figures exit and making their way to Magical Menagerie. He hadn't been this curious since Harry Potter came to buy his first wand. A feather from a phoenix which gave another feather that was in the wand of He-who-must-not-be-named. This Edward Elric had a Thestral hair wand, a creature known to be the closest to death. But the light that the wand gave was something that felt so pure and good. Contrasting elements. Very curious indeed.

Ed had a small sandy cat with a white tipped tail in his arms. He got her cheap because she had a bad leg which made her limp around. She purred and he stared intently at her black beady eyes.

"If you don't watch your way, you're gonna bang into a wall," Ai stated. He looked up and realized the crowd in Diagon Alley was scattered. It must be getting late.

"Ed, did you get that because of your brother?" she asked.

"Maybe. I got it for a whole lot of reasons I don't want to explain to you."

"Hmm," she said. "I said I have been watching you for a long time."

"Yeah. You can be any one of the people I met."

"I know. I didn't mean it that way." She refrained from looking at him. "I was the air around you, all the time. I was always there. You were there and I was watching."

"You're not making any sense."

She sighed. "I bought cookies while you were choosing a cat. Then you won't have to drink your meal every time."

Ed murmured a 'thanks' and began nibbling a chocolate chip. "Why do you trust that Bumbledore guy so much?"

"Dumbledore, Ed."

"So? He could be the bad guy. People who grin too much are mostly psychopaths, you know."

"I'll take my chances."

"You're too nice. Sooner or later someone will stab you in the back." Ed took a big bite out of his cookie. "Can't trust anyone nowadays," he mumbled with his mouth full.

Ai sighed. "Truth told me that too. 'Too soft', he said. I am only a messenger; I can't fight at all."

Ed shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth. "You haven't told me everything yet, right?"

Ai nodded. "People in HQ are eavesdroppers. They have ears on strings, literally." Ed smirked. "Edward, you passed Truth's first test. Even before I existed, _no one_ ever passed the first test. Even Hohenheim failed." She paused for a moment, expecting a reaction from Ed. The smirk was still on his face, fists clenched into balls. Ai continued, "I wonder why he survived. And Hohenheim's twin, he wanted build that immortal army, but failed, thanks to you. You stopped him, the Gate happened, and you passed."

Ed nodded and dug into the bag for another cookie. "So now's the second test?" He bit into his cookie and began chomping loudly.

"A game. The hunt to complete the puzzle."

"Sounds like Truth." He wiped crumbs off his mouth with his sleeve.

"You have up till three years," Ai then paused, wiping invisible sweat from her forehead. "Any questions?"

Ed dropped his third cookie. "What happened to Al?"

"You both were candidates. Alphonse couldn't withstand the amount of sins being forced into him. You did and still managed to keep your sanity. Maybe you are _that_ one. The one." Ai said it monotonously. A minute before, she was warm and gentle and too nice. Then it all vanished at the talk of Truth and the Gate. Then, Ai became like a robot.

Ed looked into the bag of cookies. There were four and half more. "But I'll bring him back," he said.

There was a shared silence. Ed's eyes had a flame that showed determination but at the same time a sense of sorrow. Ai's eyes had turned cold and darker, almost black.

"One more thing, what will happen to me?" Ed asked. He was surprised at himself. He thought he had pushed everything of himself to the back of his mind. Al always came first. The term 'me' came dead last.

At that moment, the gentleness and 'too-niceness' came back. Ai looked mournful, like she wanted to cry on his shoulder as his funeral was shortly arriving.

"If you lose, you would die. If you win, Alphonse would come back. Truth's wish would be granted. His wish will not ensure whether you live or perish."

Ed was shocked. His eyes widened and for a full five minutes, he didn't say a word. Then he sighed and said, "Truth is a selfish bastard."

"Ed, if the worst were to happen, would you still continue?"

"Yes."

"For this ambition, would you have the courage to sacrifice others?"

"Al wouldn't want that. I'd rather it be I and I alone."

"I guess you understand that more wishes would have more prices to pay. They would bring happiness or unhappiness."

"I get it. Equivalent exchange sucks."

Ai laughed. "Ed, remember that I'm always here," she said. "Till I know who I am, the only thing I remember is a lullaby."

_I have never truly thought of death before. I just thought that my brother would be brought back and he would live a proper human life. I was prepared to sacrifice everything but when I really look at what I would be (dead), I feel…confused. _

_Guess the bravest people would have to be a little afraid of death._

_Get rid of that hesitation, Fullmetal._

**Hello**

**This chapter is now officially satisfying!!!! I wanted to squeeze the boggart part in, but I guess I'm putting it in the next chapter... I edited it and its better now **** I'm trying to shorten my chapters from now on too.**

**About Ai: You know her name is like the Chinese and Japanese word for 'love' right? It represents as a reminder to Ed that he is always 'loved' as she's always there. He doesn't know it coz he's in self denial, but she and all his friends will stick by him no matter how much he doesn't want them to, so sooner or later he'll realize (but he'll never admit it).**

**P.S. The speeches and stuff like that are there for a reason. There's always a deeper meaning. I looooove deeper meanings. Like the the sacrifice and death part (Will come out soon).**

**P.P.S. For those who read my the first Chap 4, I deleted the 'freedom' part mainly because I forgot what it was supposed to mean…**

**Ask questions if you don't understand, kay?**

**ssapphireangel**


	5. Paper Crane

**Chapter 4 Paper Crane**

Ai disappeared the next day.

She always gave weird speeches. She said words that stuck in his mind for hours and hours. But without her, he felt that the house was way too loud. A portrait that shrieked every time someone opened the door, the cleaning, and finally the delivering of his notes. All seven BIG boxes of them. The delivery men weren't too pleased.

Then it was Harry's hearing. He did go to the Hearing and was desperately restraining himself, trying not to hit the minister's face. Ed knew that someone was trying to get Harry expelled. The Minister was a rigid, downright git. He somehow managed to be a civilized witness. Then back at Headquarters, chants of 'He got off' happened. Ed was putting on a small smirk. He knew he was like an invisible wall, something that wasn't there, that didn't exist.

He wasn't supposed to be there anyway.

Edward never got close with anyone. Alfons was the only one who succeeded.

He figured everything would be a big headache from then on. It was like the Central rebellion on the promised day. He didn't know if everything was in vain. The Colonel and his gang, the people in Lior, the Armstrongs, the Xing people, he didn't know whether they were still alive. Heck, even Scar. Now, everything was way too slow, like the gears had just begun moving.

Ed flipped a page of _Hogwarts A History_.

"Hey, Edward, thanks."

He jumped out of his thoughts. It took a moment to bring his mind back to reality and another to process the one word he hadn't heard in a long time.

"You helped me with that black hooded thing then. Equivalent exchange," he replied, not taking his eyes off the book.

"So, I heard you're going to Hogwarts."

Ed snorted. Hogwarts was like going into military again. He had the same reason anyway. "I heard they have the biggest library." He flipped a page again.

"Yeah. But that's Hermione's department. She must have read all the books there by now. Except from the restricted section."

"I'll try my best to beat her record then." Ed smirked. He had gotten a lot of information out of newspapers and borrowed books. He knew had a rough idea of what he needed, just the outline and a few theories of that maimed soul.

The book was then snatched out of his hand.

"Lookie here, George." One red haired guy waved the book in the air.

"I can't believe it either, Fred." The other who looked exactly like the first nodded solemnly.

"The new midget's worse than Hermione."

That touched a nerve. "WHO'RE CALLING AN ULTRA SUPER SMALL MIDGET?!"

"Whoa, shortstuff, we didn't say that much," George said.

"But seriously, where do you put all that knowledge?" Fred asked.

"During breakfast, it was Charms. During lunch, Potions. You need a break." There was a glint in the twins' eyes. "Candy, Edward?" George held up a brightly coloured sweet.

It was snatched out of his hand. "You two should be more like Edward. Studying to improve rather..." A browned haired girl said. She was carrying a book and her hair looked like it was once bushy.

"Hermione, you sound like Mom," another red head interrupted.

"Says you, ickle Ronnie the Prefect."

"Shut up." Ed saw Ron's ears go pink.

Everything was crazy. There was war going to happen. The minister's ignoring that fact. And there's someone trying to kill Harry. There were mentions of a weapon. And there's the maimed soul and Truth's warped sense of humour.

"Crazy," Ed muttered. He couldn't find peace to do proper research. Edward also had the feeling that everyone was going to get dragged down at that rate. Reality ain't that simple. He heard sobbing coming from a door. When it opened, there was a crack sound. There was a red head lying in a pool of blood. Mrs. Weasley was crying.

Comfort was a word Edward never knew the meaning of. He thought it was useless.

Crack. And the room turned white.

"You're afraid of me, Mr Alchemist?"

Ed gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "Not really. More of pissed."

There was laughter. "It's what I can do, isn't it? What I can give and take. There's no trust, no comfort, nothing for a living sin."

There was a squelching sound. Distinct wheezing as that scene changed from a memory into plain sight. Rivers of blood ran down the floorboards. Mrs. Weasley screamed. Harry felt his stomach backing up. Ron actually did barf.

"Ed...ward...why...couldn't...you...make...me...right..."

And he snapped. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want anyone to see it. His mistake that brought more mistakes. And more, and more. Red lightning cackled.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted without thought. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Go away! Leave me alone!"

His alchemic spikes shot up from the ground. When it pierced his nightmare, it turned into another.

"Whould...ywou...pway...with...me?"

"Nina..."

"Edward, this isn't real! It's a bogg..."

"THAT GUY CAN'T BE REPLICATED!"

Then the Gate appeared. "You almost forgot, Mr Alchemist." And there was an ominous creaking sound.

That was when alchemy went berserk. "IT CAN'T OPEN!" he yelled. Red lightning was everywhere. But there doors of the Gate swung open.

"NII-SAN!"

"Al..." The red lightning then disappeared suddenly. "Al, you came back?"

"NII-SAN! HOW COULD YOU? THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

_Scream some more. It's been so long since I heard your voice_.

"I HATE YOU!"

"RIDDIKULUS!"

The Gate melted. There was just a pool of liquid on the floor as the whiteness dissipated. Al was gone. But his hand was still there, for a second it was reaching out, before it vanished into smoke.

"Edward..." He could felt a hand on his shoulder. Ed's stomach was churning again and the scars on his back felt like they were about to split open. "Edward, that was a boggart. It projects your fear. It's not real, Edward."

Ed shoved the hand off his shoulder. That was when he saw the state of the room. Furniture had been ripped to shreds with transmutated spikes. They were sticking out of the floor, the walls, he realized that they could have pierced through the people. He could have _killed_.

"Ed, are you all right?" It was Harry. But for that one moment, it sounded like Al. Al scolding him for messing up again. Al picking up cats from the streets. Al telling him to calm down when someone called him short.

He should have been overjoyed when he heard his brother like all those years ago. When nothing was crazy. "Hey Edward..." Harry said when he received no response. There was a hand on Ed's shoulder again. One second, there was silence.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" The outburst was so sudden Harry took a step back in shock.

Edward then went to his room in quick steps.

_What I did can never be forgiven_

_It will never be forgiven_

_It mustn't be forgiven_

Truth just makes things so hard to forget. He makes it all so hard to move on.

Even though there wasn't a clock in that room, Ed could hear the minutes ticking by. He was siting by the bedside table, opening and closing his state military watch. Click, Don't forget 3 Oct 10. Click. Click, 5.46. Click. On the promised day, after he came to, Ed found his watch had stopped. He knew it stopped because of the transmutation and the Gate, so he refused to have it fixed. Remember, 3 Oct 10. Remember 5.46pm.

There was a knock on the door. "Edward dear, are you all right?" It was Mrs. Weasley. He didn't answer and continued basking in the darkness of that room. His stomach was hurting again and his heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in the silence of that room. Then the door opened and a warm smell floated into the room. The smell reminded him of Risembool, it reminded him of Winry and Aunt Pinako and Den.

Stew is the only thing that tastes nice with milk. He remembered.

The tray was set on the table, on top of his scattered pieces of paper. He didn't touch it.

"Edward, you should eat something or you'll fall sick. You still have to go to Hogwarts tomorrow," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Can't." Now was the time he really wanted to eat stew.

"It must be traumatizing. But you have to stop hurting yourself because of it."

Ed dropped his state alchemist watch on the table. "Can't eat. Not won't, can't."

"What do you mean?"

"You won't tell?"

"I won't."

"Promise?" Ed sounded like a child. Mrs. Weasley knew he was still a child. She thought that he claimed to be an adult because childhood was taken away. The loss of innocence, they say. She was right, somewhat.

"Don't have half my stomach," he said simply.

She gave a small gasp. Ed knew she was crying now. And he wasn't even her child. But she could treat Harry as her son. Inside, there was a part of him that wanted that.

Guess that will never be.

"I can get a Healer. There's definitely something I can do."

"No."

"But..."

"Didn't you hear that voice?" Ed turned cold, emotionless.

She looked like she was remembering. "You're not a sin, Edward. It's not wrong to be born."

"It is for me."

She was shocked into silence. She couldn't find an answer and Edward was rejecting every form of kindness from her.

After a minute when she wanted to speak, he turned away icily.

"Go away."

* * *

Ed had the worst sleep since he got to Grimmauld Place. They were just replaying nightmares. Because of that, he got up way before the departure time and was well, skimming through his notes. Ed wondered where Ai was. He wanted more clues, anything to get this over and done with.

He then stuffed the rest of his necessary notes into the trunk. Tying up his hair into a ponytail (didn't bother with the braid nowadays), making sure the stick was in his pocket and checking his state alchemist watch for the last time, Ed's cat limped over to him.

Haven't given her a name yet, Ed thought, patting the sandy kitten.

He pocketed his leftover cookies.

_Running out of stomach pills_, Ed thought. _Don't think these wizards would provide me any. They just flick their wand and everything is all right_.

Edward thought they were lazy. They 'apparate' when walking would just take a couple more seconds. Ed doubt they would even stretch to pass the salt. Just point a stick and it will come to you. Convenient.

Ed yawned.

He could hear the bitch portrait screaming again.

Ed begun lugging the trunk out of the door.

He still couldn't think of a name for his cat (I'm guessing Ed has bad naming sense).

* * *

Edward had absolutely no idea how he managed to get to the train in one piece. Their mode of transport to the station was ridiculous. He had to ram himself against a wall to get onto the platform.

Ed snuck away and got onto the train himself. He thought how Harry, the Weasleys and the big black dog acted like well, family. Bickering mixed with laughter, care and concern expressed in both direct and indirect ways. Reminded him of Winry and Pinako and Sensei and Sig and Al and home.

He at first sat alone in a compartment. Then a girl holding an upside down magazine came in. Ed felt sleepy.

And just as he was about to nod off, Harry and Ginny came in.

"Ed, you're here. Why'd you disappear at the platform?" Harry sat down.

"Yeah. Mom wanted to say goodbye," Ginny piped in.

"Don't care," Ed muttered and yawned. He heard the train ride was very long. He needed to _sleep_.

Just as he was about to nod off, a panting Neville Longbottom came in.

And he brought a friend, er, cactus. Ed was just about to nod off when it squirted a goo on his face. He wondered how a plant could annoy him. Then someone else came in and left pretty quickly. The conversations were blah blah blah blah.

His nap-that-never-happened was interrupted the fourth time. The food trolley. Harry bought chocolate frogs. Ed bought another bag of cookies. Chocolate chip on his lap was somewhat assuring and he wondered where the beacon was. He wondered how Alfrons was. And he wondered whether he could sleep without dreaming. But when he was about to sleep...

"Neville, I got a Van Hohenheim," Harry said. If Ed was eating, he would have choked. He jolted, wide awake.

"Cool, he's one of the rare ones," Neville said as the card was passed to him. "He's known to be the greatest alchemist in wizard history."

"I thought Nicholas Flamel was," Harry said.

"Maybe. But there's still Dumbledore, so no one ever knows." Neville then read off the back of the card. "Famous for being the 'true philosopher's stone'."

Ed was thinking, _That bastard never told me anything! He just vanishes for a decade then I find out he's in this warped magic world._ Then there came profanities in nineteen different languages. But Ed was just thinking, luckily.

"Can I see that?" Ed asked through gritted teeth.

The picture of his 'long-lost' father was there for a second, then gone. It was like he felt Ed's wrath and ran away. Ed flipped the card and scanned the simple three sentences.

Van Hohenheim, birth date unknown, currently residing in Munich, Germany.

Considered greatest alchemist in history and the true philosopher's stone. Treasures family over everything else.

_Bullshit_, Ed thought, flipping the card around again. "Where did he go?"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," Harry said, repeating Ron's words from his first year.

"Will he be back?" Ed asked.

"Probably."

"If I punch his face on the card, will he feel it?"

"What?"

"Never mind." Ed tossed the card back at Harry, thinking again, the line on his forehead appearing as clear as day. He really needed to research on wizards.

"So Ed, is it your first year at Hogwarts? You look too old to be," Neville said.

"Was home-schooled," Ed gave the story he was told. "Bumblebore said it would be better to be at Hogwarts, so here I am." The conversation ended just like that. With his tone, no one dared to even correct him. _Dumbledore, Ed_. Ai would say.

_Finally, some sleep._ Ed thought.

Ron and Hermione came in. There was so much chattering. And the upside down magazine girl started laughing, drowning out the voices. Ed had his eyes closed, but he could distinctively hear 'baboon's backside'.

"Baboon's backside! (where did that come from?) Can't anyone shut up for five minutes!" he burst, finally, following a string of curses. Ed's nap had been interrupted so many times he lost count. He then rested his chin on his hand and closed his eyes.

"Well, someone's in a good mood," came a sarcastic whisper.

"He does seem pretty tired. We should lower the volume a little."

"Yeah, he did look like death this morning."

Whisper, whisper, whisper. It's not like he couldn't hear them. Ed's hearing was much over average. There was talk on how he didn't eat, how he looked so pale, how he always wore thick clothes, how he did wandless magic, how he never took off his gloves and how he was...not normal.

"A vampire? That would explain alot," Ron was murmuring. "He has the eye colour for one."

The airy voice came in, "Vampires wear contact lenses to mask their real eye colour which is an animal yellow."

Listening to children blabber got Ed to feel more sleepy.

Just as he was about to nod off, Malfoy came in.

Ed thought he would just come and leave peacefully. But it's_ Malfoy_, so that's never the case. He was insulting others. And that cocky and spoilt-brat tone of his just made Ed even more pissed. Eyes still closed, he was trying to maintain his cool. But he remembered a Malfoy at Harry's hearing. At least Malfoy-number-one fought his own battles. But he hated that Malfoy just as much as this one.

"Yeah," said Harry. "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

_What kind of comeback is that?_ Ed thought.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

Ed had it. He thought he had dealt with Malfoy at the Ministry but **no**, a mini-Malfoy _had_ to come back and haunt his sleep. He was downright pissed and got up from his sitting and sleeping position.

Without saying anything, Ed punched Malfoy in the face, with his_ right _hand. Yes, the hard, _metal_ one.

He then shoved the compartment door shut and went back to his sitting and sleeping position.

No one dared to disturb him then. Malfoy never came back and everyone swore not to annoy Edward ever again.

* * *

In the white space again. There was no dreams. Ed was relieved at that. He really needed some peace. But Ai was no where to be seen. In the background, Truth was laughing.

"Game start, Mr Alchemist."

* * *

**Hello**

**No Ai this chapter! I was getting tired of her.**

**I have a special request! I need a name for Ed's cat!! I can't think of anything! Something unusual would be nice. So review me a name for Ed's cat!**

**Also, please review and tell me how to improve :)**

**I should probably include the disclaimer here too. I completely forgot about it but FMA and HP do not belong to me! **

**Also, let me tell you about the titles for chapter 3 and 4. **

**Chapter 3 is 'A Single Bluebird' which has nothing to do with the game BBI. Although I might include some references like the firefly grass (I'm not that sure cause I don't play the game. Pardon me if I'm wrong). But it relates to Ai being alone without an identity. Also, the bluebird is always searching and always watching over, that kind of feeling.**

**Chapter 4 is Paper Crane. As the legend says, if you fold ten thousand paper cranes, a wish would be granted. So Truth game begins, so the fulfilling his and Ed's wishes begin. So this chapter is mentions only one paper crane. It just means it is the beginning. Ed still has 9,999 paper cranes to go...**

**Thanks to the people who stuck with me so far. I know I can be long winded sometimes... But THANK YOU :)**

**I do love cookies, ssapphireangel**


	6. Endless Insanity

**Chapter 5 Endless Insanity**

Harry shook him awake saying they were reaching Hogwarts, so they had to change.

_Oh great,_ Ed thought. _Time_ _to cross-dress._  
He yawned and grabbed his robes, trudging to the bathroom. He could take off his shirt in the compartment, but there were things the little kiddies weren't meant to see.

The train came to a halt. Ed checked for his watch, his cookie bag and his personal notebook, then left into the open alone. The night air felt good. Ed felt that it soothed his insides and calmed the millions of souls trapped in his body. The breeze was cold. There was a lot of noise.

"First-years line up over here, please! All first-years to me!"

Ed sighed. The game starts, right? The real crazy begins now.

It was moonless, starless, giving the late evening a great sense of foreboding. From behind he could hear Harry calling his name, once, twice, before going into silence.

Ed didn't care. He didn't need anyone. It's best to ignore everyone.

The night felt still. Ed followed the crowd to the hundred of stagecoaches. In his pocket, Ed's wand got warmer. He unconsciously approached the front of a stagecoach. There were no horses. Ed then snapped out of his dreamlike state. Skeleton horses, black with pupil-less white eyes, leathery wings folded at their sides.

"Not chimera," Ed whispered, once in a long time in the language of his homeland, Amestris.

When he wondered why he said that, he saw Harry in a carriage in front.

_**He is afraid.**_

Ed did not jump when he heard the voice. He had been hearing voices since he became the philosopher's stone. It came with the sins.

"Are you sad?" Ed whispered in Amestrain.

_**Like you, child. **_

The white eye of the skeleton horse blinked and it tilted its black reptilian head towards him. Ed almost smiled. He climbed into the carriage and began staring into space. His mind was clear for once.

_**If you are lonely, my family and I will keep you company. In return, you could keep us company.**_

_A creature that knows equivalent exchange_, Ed thought. After awhile, he muttered, "I guess I should thank the horse."

* * *

Harry was a bit frustrated at Ed's disappearance. He felt a lot of admiration for the blonde. But he distanced himself from everyone. And Harry, especially Harry, Ed treated him like plague. Harry didn't know why. He just realized Mrs. Weasley sobbed softly whenever Ed came and left the room. Ed was an enigma. And the blue lightning magic, what was it? Harry didn't know why Ed needed a wand when all he needed were his hands. And what was with the gloves? Is he like conscious about his body? There were millions of questions like: What was Ed's real age?

His thoughts were interrupted when Hermione pointed out a certain pink toad woman at the staff table.

"It's that Umbridge woman!"

Ed thought, _first mini-Malfoy, now her? Is the ministry _trying_ to make my life hell?_

"Nice cardigan," said Ron, smirking.

_Excuse me; I think I need to barf._ Ed thought.

"Abercrombie, Euan."

Clap, clap, clap.

"We are also pleased to announce that a transfer student from Germany will be with us from now on. I expect him to be treated like any other student in Hogwarts," old man said.

"Elric, Edward."

He shuffled forward to the talking hat. When it was put on his head, he felt…nothing. Ed was relieved until a voice spoke in his head. Not that crazy, but still crazy.

'_You're older than you were said to be.' _

_Yeah, that doesn't matter, does it?_ Ed replied.

'_You don't want to be here, but you want to learn,' _theHat muttered._ 'However, Mr. Elric, I would appreciate you dropping those mental barriers. It affects my decision.'_

Ed knew he couldn't do that. After all, it wasn't him who put those there.

'_Can't? You have too many secrets for a kid.'_

_WHO'RE YOU CALLING SHORT, YOU SOUL TRAPPED IN A HAT?!_

'_Smart kid. But Ravenclaw's not for you. How do you know that?'_

_I have experience, piece of rag._

'_Hmm, apparently only one memory is accessible. I wonder why?'_

_He probably thinks that's not important._

'_Ambition, a lot of ambition. You have a dream. But you would rather protect others than achieve it. Self-sacrifice. Courage and bravery.'_

_Anytime soon would be nice. _

'_Griffindor or Slytherin. Take your pick.'_

_I get to choose?_

'_You're qualified for both.'_

_I don't really care._

'_Edward Elric, for your character, I propose the house which would grant you loyal friends. Companionship is important as it would perhaps…'_

_Not needed, Hat._

"GRIFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat yelled.

And Ed thought. _What the hell? I didn't choose anything. _He was scowling as he went to the red table. They were all clapping enthusiastically but he pouted in deep thought. Food appeared on the table out of thin air and Ed merely stared, arms crossed, wondering what excuse he should give. He wondered if there was any soup, or at least something his stomach could take.

"Awon't wyou gonna weat afythong?" Ron asked. Ed couldn't make out anything with the redhead's mouth full.

"I'm sticking with cookies," Ed said, digging out his stash.

He nibbled on one, noticing another strange, crazy, insane thing happening.

The ghosts, all the ghosts, were giving him weird glares. From the other side of the huge hall, the translucent beings were turning and eyeing him. All of them. And it was _the_ look.

The ghost nearest to him was Nearly Headless Nick. He refused to float within a five meter radius of Ed, giving him glances that were mixed with shock and fear.

_What am I, a newly resurrected demon lord? _Ed thought. _Like I care._ He snorted and took a big bite of a cookie.

Ed knew Dumbledore was highly respected. He read a novel's worth about the headmaster in the previous weeks. And he could easily tell truth from lies. According to Ed, the lies were poorly done and Dumbledore's story fitted perfectly, no loopholes whatsoever. The ministry of magic happened to be the non-violence military. Just like the previous, they were just idiots gathered together, following an even bigger idiot.

'Tryouts for the Quidditch teams will take place on the –"

"_Hem hem_."

Ed glared at the pink toad that stood up. He couldn't help smirking at the teachers' reactions. They look like they were about to piss in their pants. Ed snorted and returned to glaring at the hideous mix of pink and amphibian.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" _Must they name the school after pigs?_ "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!" _Are you sure you're human? Does this face look happy? _"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" _I seriously doubt it. _Ed was looking at Umbridge with a dagger glare. _No one looking like that should be allowed to go into public. _

"The Ministry of Magic…" _Ah, she's supporting the idiot council. _Ed continued listening, for the sake of criticizing her speech in his head. He was insulting her while picking out certain details that could be used against the toad. Umbitch could be a serious obstruction in his research.

At the end of the illuminating speech, Ed snorted.

"I'll tell you what it means," he heard Hermione say. "It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."

_She may be too smart for her own good._ Ed thought, resting his head on his right arm, elbow propped up on the table. His headache was coming back.

Then the doors of the Great Hall flew open. All eyes flew to the entrance as a drenched hooded figure strolled into the Hall. His boots were muddy and his steps were heavy.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Ah, I expect some of you remember a certain class for students above fifth-years. It has been here until two years ago, when the professor had to leave due to unfortunate conditions."

"No way!" Fred and George exclaimed.

"It is true, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore chuckled. "And I am most honored to have my old friend, Professor Hohenheim, to take up the class once again."

At that moment, Ed almost choked on his own saliva. He stared at the staff table, spotting the blonde hair and the face of the bastard.

_That confirms it. Someone is trying to make my life hell._ Ed thought.

"Sorry I'm late. It was hard to apparate from America," Hohenheim said.

_What's the bastard doing all the way there?_ Ed thought.

"So, for those who wish to learn alchemy, signup sheets are at your common rooms," he said. "Just so you know, alchemy is not magic. It is a science. Even though wands are not needed, it is still a science. I hope I can do a good job in teaching."

There was a fairly loud applause but Ed was busy muttering under his breath. He cursed very, very foully.

Then, Ed undid his ponytail and retied it into his trademark braid.

His headache was the worst he had gotten for a long time.

"Mr. Elric, could you come with me?" Professor McGonagall said sternly, appearing suddenly in front of him. Ed gave a small groan.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"To the headmaster's office. What is your impression of Hogwarts so far?" The Professor was didn't turn back.

"It's crazy."

She didn't give much of a reaction. "What would give you that idea?" she simply asked.

"Magic is just wrong."

It creates too much…

What?

* * *

Maybe it was another mistake.

"Lemon drops."

The stone gargoyle moved and before he knew it, Ed was at a circular office, full of trinkets, books and breakable stuff. The old Hat was there too. And there was also a fire bird perched on a golden post, above a tray of ashes. The moment he entered the room, the phoenix gave soft cry. When he flattered his wings, Ed wondered why nothing caught on fire.

Magic makes reality seem like a dream.

Minerva McGonagall gave Edward Elric a weird look. She saw his right arm twitch as he took a step forward to the glowing bird.

Ed felt his head clear again, the same as with the skeleton horses. And again, he said, "Not chimera," in Amestrian, under his breath.

And being in a quiet room, the Professor standing a few feet next to him heard it.

And the phoenix started singing.

_**I know you can hear me.**_

Ed heard the voice once the song faded.

_**Touch, for you will not burn.**_

Ed really smiled this time. Second time, different voice. First female, this one male. First death, next fire. Ed stroked the fire bird's head. It was warm, silky. The phoenix gave an elegant squawk.

_**You are not afraid.**_

"I see Fawks has taken a liking to you."

The headmaster's eyes showed that amusement again. Ed just stared intently Dumbledore, still wondering whether he's a threat. _The old man's looks freak me out. _He concluded.

Then he noticed the man beside the headmaster.

He felt anger rise and before he knew it, he flung his fist at the new alchemy professor's left cheek.

"Mr. Elric," Professor McGonagall exclaimed when Dumbledore held up his hand, silencing her.

"Professor Hohenheim did warn about that," he chuckled.

The bastard got up, rubbing a bruised cheek. "Again, Ed? And must it be with your _right _hand?"

Ed merely glared at him, eyebrows knitted together.

"Don't look so scary, Ed. After all, we haven't seen each other for about ten years."

"Don't give me that, bastard," Ed growled.

"Edward… I told you to wait. But when I came back, you just left a two year old note saying that you'll be flying to America."

"You never told me that you were involved in this!"

Hohenheim sighed. "I guess…"

Ed cut him off. "No thanks. I'm going to bed."

"Wait, Mr. Elric."

"Old man, I have a mind to leave this stupid magic school now," Ed snarled.

"You really hate me that much, Ed?"

Edward ignored him. Dumbledore chuckled again. "Ai wanted me to pass on a note." He held in his palm a crumpled piece of parchment.

There were only three sentences:** Listen. Stick to Harry Potter. You're on your own.**

Ed growled and crushed the note in his hand. He had no choice, hadn't he? Ed realized the person who wanted his life to be hell was none other than Truth. The God twisted Ed round his fingers.

"Fine."

The note in his hand turned to ash with a small lightning.

"Also, Mr. Elric, it is compulsory for you to attend the alchemy class."

"WHAT?!" Ed yelled. "You want me to put up with HIM?!" His finger jolted to the other blonde in the room.

"That's impossible for the both of us, Albus."

"Ah, I expect you two can behave." Dumbledore had the amused look again. The old man thinks everything's interesting, doesn't he? Especially torturing Ed. Now, who does that remind you of?

Ed's fists were clenched up into balls. He let a curse escape his lips before storming to the door.

"For Al," he snarled at Hohenheim before exiting the room.

"Is it wise, Albus?" Minerva McGonagall whispered.

"Definitely not," Hohenheim said. "I expected the outburst, but not that arrangement. Care to tell me the reason?"

"Let's just say," Dumbledore chuckled. "I just gave you a chance."

"To do what? Die?" Hohenheim exclaimed. He wiped sweat off his forehead.

"You do want to get back with your eldest son, don't you?"

Hohenheim sighed. "I don't think it would work. I left him twice. He almost forgave me once. He's never gonna forgive me now."

There was a silence.

"But thank you, Albus."

* * *

_What should I name the cat?_

_After someone from the home that is long gone?_

_After my brother who I want to meet so much?_

_There're so many people._

_So many I want to see again._

_Winry?_

_No._

_Al?_

_No._

_Mustang?_

_Heck, no!_

_Nina?_

_They're all people who entered my life._

_All is one and one is all._

_Let it be a name that never once have crossed my lips._

_Little cat, you will be called Evie._

_Evie, another one who came into my life._

_Maybe this one wouldn't be damned._

* * *

**Hello**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**I've been thinking, this story isn't supposed to be humour. But it's waaaay too angsty. I want to add humour to lighten the mood. I'm not sure how, though... I'm gonna try, so if you could help me, it would be most appreciated.**

**Review please!**

**The button's right there!**

**ssapphireangel who loves cookies**


	7. What's Wrong?

**Chapter 6 What's Wrong?**

All the way to the common room, Ed was letting out all the frustrations he bottled up the moment he stepped into Hogwarts.

"That f***king b*****! Who does he f**king think he is? F***k! Son of b****! That a**h***!"

Then, he realized he didn't know the way to the common room.

"Ah, young Elric! Why are you wandering the corridors this late in the night?"

Edward spun around, coming face to face with the people who were not pleased with his presence. Not people, actually.

"I thought you didn't like me," he growled at the translucent figure.

"Ah, but I, Sir Nicholas, don't hold grudges! You're looking for the Griffindor common room, is that right? This way, then!"

The ghost floated in the opposite direction.

"The ghosts have heard of your kind, but never seen one in person." Sir Nicholas began, floating in lead of Edward who trudged wearily behind.

Ed made a grunting sound. "What?" He eyed the figure's weird dressing.

"Homunculi. We, who are imprints of souls who do not wish to move to the afterlife, fear them the most."

Edward snorted. "Homunculus, huh? Don't associate me with those bastards."

"But you feel like them."

"Those are different circumstances." He did not wish to elaborate.

"But like them, you probably feed on souls, is that not right?" The ghost sounded cautious and afraid. Yes, they were afraid.

"No, Mr. Ghost. I feed on cookies," he replied matter-of-factly.

The ghost laughed. "Ah, but Mr. Elric. I heard it's a need for you kind to stay alive, and immortal."

"I may be a monster, but I am not that kind of monster."

"Then Mr. Elric, I would tell my friends not to fear. And also, I would like to lend you my services. You do have something to find, don't you?" The ghost sounded sincere enough. But Ed wondered if he wanted to help just to get rid of him sooner.

"I'm sure you're wondering why, aren't you, young one?" Nicholas said his tone much more serious. "Well, the ghosts of Hogwarts discussed this in the meeting just now. We decided it was the best."

"You have something to gain from helping me?" Ed asked.

"Ah, that is to be confirmed, child."

Ed thought for a moment. He knew the exact reason why the ghosts decided to be nice. Sucking up, kissing ass, trying to prevent themselves from getting 'eaten'. He could practically feel the fear radiate from Sir Nicholas. He could smell the fear that reeked from the walls of the castle.

"I didn't ask for it."

* * *

"I didn't ask for anything."

* * *

Sir Nicholas stopped at the end of the corridor. He gestured dramatically at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "So here is the Griffindor common room! The password's Mimbulus Mimbledora. Your things should be delivered there. I hope you enjoy your stay." He patted Edward on the shoulder. "It was nice chatting with you, Mr. Elric. I do know you being here is one of that God's freaky games. If you require help, feel free to go the second floor girl's bathroom. The Ghosts of Hogwarts would be glad to provide you our services. I truly hope everything turns out all right."

Ed waved it off. "I don't plan on dying so soon."

Sir Nicholas gave Edward a weird look. A look like it was already too late, and he was already in his coffin.

Edward happened to gate crash an argument. It was Harry Potter, of course, versus someone called Seamus and Seamus' mom, somehow.

"Edward trusts me, doesn't he?" Harry said. _Awesome, drag an innocent-passerby-who-has-better-things-to-do into your stupid fight._ Edward thought. He couldn't be bothered with the brat so he just walked passed and up the stairs.

He heard someone's footsteps behind him. _Can no one leave me alone?_ Ed thought.

"Are you listening to the whole 'Chosen One' rubbish? Is that why you always treat me like I'm some sort of disease? Do you seriously believe I'm a nutter?"

"I don't…" he groaned, hoping that would somehow end the conversation.

"Ed, you sneak away every time you get a chance! Well, if you believe the Daily Prophet's lies…"

"I know crap when I see it, brat!"

"What?"

"I know your newspaper's full of shit!" He hated it when people doubted his intelligence.

"Then…"

"Just because I saved your ass a few times doesn't mean we can be friends and all."

"So you just hate me? What the heck did I ever do to you?"

"Nothing. I'm going to bed."

Harry Potter felt more curious.

* * *

Ed found his stuff sitting innocently beside a very comfortable looking bed. He heard Harry's protests behind him. That killed his mood.

"Sleep now, research tomorrow," he grumbled, following a yawn.

"Ed!"Harry exclaimed.

"I. Am. Going. To. Bed," Edward snarled, adding a pause between each word for emphasis. "So shut up." He said it in a disturb-me-and-I'll-break-your-face tone.

Edward Elric fell asleep the moment he hid his pillow.

* * *

There were no nightmares.

* * *

Ed woke up earlier than anyone else that morning. He had to take a shower and get dressed without additional, unnecessary questions about his metal appendages.

Then the weirdness came back, appearing at 4am in the morning.

His back was clean.

Clean, as in no scars, no knife marks, no nothing, which is good, but weird. Wasn't like Truth to loosen the strings attached to his puppet.

"It's like logic crumbling apart…"Ed muttered, trying to feel every spot on his back. "Instant regeneration isn't so instant…"

"If only the same thing could happen to my insides." He patted his lower stomach. "I guess not."

Edward stared at his metal arm.

He smirked. "I have a theory to start on." Finally, his research could be taken to a higher level. "It's like logic crumbling apart…" he repeated. "The Gate isn't working so well lately."

* * *

Truth was laughing, but Edward didn't know.

He lived through breakfast, though. There was the return of the liquid secreted from a cow, but he managed to avoid it. It was Black Monday, though. He heard from Ron that the worst classes were piled into a single day.

In History of Magic, Binns happened to be the most boring ghost to ever float into existence. It wasn't even five minutes and half the class was asleep. Edward was busy scribbling in his notebook, ignoring the whole lesson. He failed to notice the ghost taking great measures (floating through a student) to avoid getting anywhere within a five meter radius of Ed.

Potions was Ed's favourite so far. He loved the look on Snape's face every time he answered a question correctly. And even when he insulted Harry in making the Draught of Peace, the pissed look came back. Snape's face was blacker than the gloomy robes he wore when he saw Ed's perfect potion with no way of accusing him of cheating (Hermione sat very far away). So Ed concluded Potions was a class to relive stress. Apparently annoying Snape was very relaxing.

"Mr. Elric, come here," Snape said at the end of the class.

"Yes?"

"I assume your relation with Professor Hohenheim is the reason for your performance in my class," he said.

"It is similar to alchemy. I have no relation with the bastard that teaches that class."

"Language, Mr. Elric," Snape said. Ed was surprised he didn't dock a point. "I would see you for detention, Monday night."

"What the hell did I do?" Ed almost yelled.

"I have queries about that ancient art. Dumbledore approves but the Ministry woman better not know anything about your skill so it is scheduled as detention. I don't trust your father."

"Secretive bastard, isn't he?"

"You could say so; it was a pity you weren't sorted into Slytherin, Edward Elric. Now, leave."

_Maybe he's not as bad._ Edward thought. He pushed that thought away though.

* * *

"Good day," a dreamy voice broke Ed out of his thought. He reminded himself that he was in Divination.

He hated the teacher the moment he set eyes on her. She looked like an oversized housefly.

"She likes to predict death a lot," Harry warned him, telling him of his death she predicted.

"Ahh, you, you're a new one to my class. I, of course, knew of your arrival." Ed noticed her hesitation as she spoke. Trelawney walked up to him and peered closely with her insect-like spectacles.

"Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future. So tell me, Mr. Elric, what did you dream of last night? Feel free to immerse yourself into the depths of your mind…"

"Nothing," Ed said irritably.

"But you must dream of something…"

No dreams. It's nightmares or nothing at all.

"You will die…" _Oh, here it comes_. Her eyes turned glassy and her voice became weird, deeper and sounding like a bad sore throat. "A young death…young and tragic…" Trelawney grabbed Ed's arm. "No bonds, no love, no home…" She gasped, very abruptly. "No existence."

Edward tore the arm away from him. He was sweating, panting like after a nightmare. His stomach felt queasy. What was that? It sounded like it was true. He felt hot, and his back was burning. The scars weren't there anymore. They were gone. Truth no longer held onto him with an iron grip. But yet it felt like his fate was still controlled.

For the rest of Divination, he remained silent, refusing to talk to anyone, to answer anyone.

* * *

Edward wanted to vomit. And it was just the_ first _day. He'll need to carry a barf bag around soon.

"Well, good afternoon!" Professor Umbridge said in a sickly sweet voice. It was horribly high pitched and together with her pink cardigan and the large velvet bow, equals hideous trouble.

Ed confirmed that the new Professor was going to be a difficult obstacle to his research.

"Tut, tut. That won't do now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

_What are we, two-year-olds?_ Ed thought. _Being short for his age was awful enough. What about my research? I'm definitely not going to suck up. Guess that means I have to be sneaky._

Edward glared at Umbitch with immense hatred. He could stand the Colonel, but this was—just 'urgh!'

He flashed to the book in front of him, then to the blackboard.

_Defense Against the Dark Arts. A Return to the Basic Principles_

Ed concluded that the ministry only had idiots in it. He could feel a rebellion coming up.

Edward could hear a clock ticking as he tuned out the Professor's talk. _Maimed soul. I have to find a maimed soul. Sounds like a shattered soul, just more intense. Not like a soul being broken but… Like someone would carve out his own soul. Dark magic, maybe? I got to read up more on dark magic. It's not like that frog woman would tell me anything about it._

Edward's lost his train of thought when Harry spoke, loudly. "What use is that? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a…"

Dean Thomas said, "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."

_True, but I don't think that's going into the toad head._ Ed thought. He crossed his arms and glared at Umbridge, expecting her comeback which was about getting attacked during classes.

"The use of education is to prepare children for lives outside the classroom. If reading is only done during class, how do you think anyone is going to be _prepared_?" he said clearly. Ed was keeping his cool, trying not to go into one of his colourful rants.

Obviously Umbridge had no excuse. She said, "You hand is not up, Mr…"

Edward didn't bother to reply. He just glared harder and if looks could kill, the Professor would be long dead.

"What's good's theory going to be in the real world?" Harry said.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"Then what's good of school if no one learns how to apply it to real life?" he asked, sounding a lot like a politician.

"Theory is as good as application, Mr…"

Edward ignored her again.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" enquired Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Maybe… Lord Voldemort?"

There were gasps and tiny screams. Edward's attention was immediately grabbed; he straightened up in his seat, curious at why that word seemed like a taboo. He made a mental note to read up more on Voldy…whatever-his-name-was.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead…"

"He wasn't dead. But yeah, he's returned," Harry interrupted angrily.

"This is a lie."

"I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!"

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"

There was another sharp intake of breath. Edward made another mental note to look up this Cedric guy.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident."

"It was murder!"

Edward finally stood up, smirking. "Excuse me, but from my point of view, you sound like you're afraid, Professor. In fact, your ministry sounds like a whole bunch of cowards who just want to avoid a terrible truth."

"You opinion is rather big for a child, Mr…"

"It doesn't have to be that Lord Moldyshorts," Ed interrupted. "It could be a sadist who likes to blow people up or some madman who wants to destroy mankind. We need to be protected from even someone who wants to steal you pocket change. Anything could happen. Then what about the real world? If you're too stupid to realize, there could be thousands of Dark wizards murdering people behind your back this very minute. You're just too afraid to face that fact. Well, here's some news, the world isn't so innocent!" his 'speech' ended in a snarl and he sat back down, glaring and rubbing his stomach.

"Come here, Mr. Potter, Mr…"

Edward got up, silent.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," said Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him.

As soon as Harry and Ed left the hellhole of a classroom, Ed's breath became shallow. He stopped rubbing his lower stomach thinking he could walk off the pain.

"That was awesome, Ed. But you got into trouble too. I could have been fine alone," Harry began, in an irritated tone.

"Didn't do it for you. I just don't think I could stand her voice throughout the lesson," Ed muttered. "You weren't thinking while you argued. If you continue doing that, people will think that you are all hot air."

Harry thought for a while. "Yeah, I guess."

"Why, it's Potty Wee Potter and the new shorty!" cackled Peeves.

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING SHORT?" Ed yelled.

Peeves shrank back. The ghost looked at Edward, realized and grew afraid, turning and rushed away.

"Whoa, what was that?" Harry gasped. "Never seen Peeves so terrified."

"That monster, stalking the noble halls of Hogwarts. What are we going to do? The demon would…" a random ghost floated into the wall muttering under his breath.

Before Harry could ask, Professor McGonagall emerged from her office.

* * *

Harry was shooed out pretty quickly; only with a warning from the strict Head of Griffindor.

"Mr. Elric, I admit I do wonder what you said to Professor Umbridge. I didn't expect you to be the impulsive kind."

"Well, just a couple of intelligent comments," Edward said sheepishly. He did enjoy the look on the toad's face, it was priceless.

"You too must tread lightly around Professor Umbridge, Mr. Elric." Professor McGonagall smiled. "Now that we're having somewhat of a conversation, I am to pass a message from your father."

Edward snorted and turned, waving it off. "No thanks."

"As your head of house, I have the responsibility for my student's health, Mr. Elric."

Edward froze and turned to glare at the Professor. "What did he tell you?" he demanded.

"Many things, Edward. Some I do not quite believe unless I see for myself," she said frankly, eyeing Ed's right hand.

Ed caught the hint. He pushed up the sleeve, revealing the metal glint to McGonagall.

She gasped. "Well, I have to say that I am appalled." She then opened a drawer from the desk, getting out a brown packet. "Professor Hohenheim told me to pass you your medication and a reminder to take it regularly."

Ed snatched the packet, grunting. "At least he did something useful for once."

"I do not think that is the appropriate tone to speak of your father, Mr. Elric." McGonagall looked impassive. She pitied Edward, he could feel it. "He also told me to tell you not to skip meals and not to be too focused on research and lose sleep. He also said to keep your comments to yourself and not to use your famous profanities. He is a rather pleasant man."

"Once a bastard, always a bastard," Ed said.

"You will see Professor Umbridge for detention with Mr. Potter at five o' clock tomorrow."

Ed groaned.

"Take care of yourself, Edward."

At that moment, Ed felt a pang in his heart. He clenched his hands and his face turned sorrowful. She sounded like Granny Pinako.

"I don't need your pity, Professor."

Even though the door wasn't slammed shut, the sound of it closing was like an echo that dragged on for a while in bitterness, in despair.

* * *

No, no, no Mr. Alchemist. It may be true but the Gate has been the same all this while. Everything is part of a ritual that has just begun. Those reigns were just to prevent my little alchemist from running away. The scars were a cage.

Little birdie can never escape the cage.

You can't see it, but it is still there.

* * *

**Hello**

**I'm late, I know. Blame school for arranging too many tests. Well, it's the holidays now, so I'll be going on full speed updating sooner or later. GAH! I'm typing so slowly, I'm annoying myself!**

**I can't swear. Sorry.**

**So how were the lessons? **

**Umbridge lessons were fun to write. Ed's so pissed that he refuses to even give his name! Snape's were kind of hard, so were divination. **

**Is everything still confusing? **

**You guys are still reading right?**

**Everything's all slow now, but Ed's getting closer to the answer. He's inching his way forward. If you're wondering where Ai is, she's around the world, Order of Phoenix duties, searching for identity and ways to spare Ed from suffering etc…**

**I'm trying to lessen the pain. Is it working?**

**Please answer my questions :) REVIEW! Answer, ask, just drop me a REVIEW!**

**ssapphireangel :)**


	8. Forever's Tragedy

**Chapter 7 Forever's Tragedy**

Edward was surviving on tablets. He could attend meals like a regular person; he just had to tolerate a certain blonde haired bastard at the staff table giving him glances every five minutes. During dinner, there was the buzz of Harry's yelling spree as well as a bit of his little dispute with the toad. He caught wisps of the alchemy class starting tomorrow. 'Wandless magic', those ignorant wizards described it. Wait till they find out that 'magic' came from muggles.

"So, Edward, are you attending Professor Hohenheim's class?" Hermione asked.

Edward almost choked on his potato at 'Professor'. He still preferred 'the bastard'. Ed then grunted, flipping a page of the book he was reading while eating.

"Harry, Ron and I are attending," Hermione said.

Ron actually choked on his potato. "We are?" he asked. Hermione nodded at him.

Edward swallowed. He didn't even take time to debate.

"No."

Well, damn the old man. Edward Elric could change his mind. And Ed did not want to attend a class about a subject he knew almost everything about. It was a complete waste of time.

"Well, I'm heading to the library," he said, getting up.

* * *

Dark magic. Dark magic. Edward skimmed through the books. Forbidden curses. Nope. Hexing the Dark. Nope. Darkness' Deepest Secrets. Maybe. Ed added the book to his growing pile. Dark Contracts. Dark Philosophy. Wizard's Greatest Darkness. Evil and Beyond. He piled up more books. Man, wizards had to create better names. Its 'dark' this, 'dark' that, no wonder so many go to the dark side. Edward snorted. His hand hovered over the spine of the last book in the shelf.

Pain erupted on his back. Faded like distant burning but sharp like his flesh was being carved out again.

Ed bit his lip, swallowing a scream. His hand grabbed the edge of the shelf as he stared at the book at the end of the shelf. He clenched his fists and his eyebrows knitted together. Edward bit his lip till it drew blood.

The Darkest Alchemy.

Not quite a creative name, but spelled out everything. Edward grabbed the book and sat down. He licked the blood off his lower lip and began flipping.

_Who's the f**king bastard who wrote something like this? _He thought, grabbing the hard cover of the book tightly, as if wanting to rip it to shreds. _What's that old man thinking about letting this be in reach of the students? It's the library! Which idiot puts information like this in a library?_

Ed skimmed through the contents page. Transmuting gold. Transmuting animals. Chimeras. Blood Seals. Human Transmutation. Human sacrifices. Homunculus. The Philosopher's Stone. Alchemic Contracts. The Gate. The Truth of Equivalent Exchange.

It was all there. Not even in code. Edward's eyes landed on the last page of the book, on the inside of the cover. There, etched in calligraphy writing, as clear as day.

_Dear little Caged Bird,_

_Learn to use your blood. That is your key. _

_This is a book full of secrets. It is your life written on paper. That is your clue._

_Tick tock tick tock, Edward Elric._

Ed let out a low growl, mostly at the word 'little'. The second part was a riddle. He knew what the first part meant. Use blood. His blood was full of philosopher's stone.

"Never," he muttered.

_Suit yourself, Mr. Alchemist. _

Who was he kidding? It was a meaningless struggle. You know who would win in the end. Who do you think you're fighting against? You may have forever. You may have eternity. It would be futile. Who do you think you're fighting against? Who do you think you are to fight against him? He is God. You can't win.

* * *

Charms was awesome because Ed found someone who looked older than him and was way shorter. He paid attention during Transfiguration, though disliking and refusing to transfigure his cat. All through the whole lesson Evie purred and scratched against his gloved flesh hand as McGonagall shot him _the look_. Edward quite enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures. Even though he disliked the teacher and her weird name, he found the class _tolerable_. Like the phoenix, like the thestral, there were little whispers that soothed his aching back and calmed the storm in his mind. He hid in the Gryffindor common room during Alchemy. Nobody looked for him, luckily.

Only after classes Edward found the time to go to the bathroom.

He snuck away from the prying eyes of the Golden Trio after grabbing the cursed alchemy book. He needed answers.

"Well lookie here, it's the homunculus roaming about the school." Ed jumped, turning around to meet face to face with a translucent girl wearing huge glasses and a Hogwarts uniform. "Don't worry, Mr. Homunculus. Nobody cares for Myrtle. Even if she gets eaten for being so close…" The ghost then broke down into moans. She sobbed before flying and diving into a toilet.

"So what can I do for you, Mr. Homunculus?" Myrtle appeared in front of Ed. Her eyes flickered at the black book in Ed's hands. "Oh, that reminds me of the book that was thrown at me three years ago. You're not gonna throw a book at Myrtle, are you?"

"First of all, no. Secondly, don't call me Mr. Homunculus," Ed snapped.

Myrtel was sobbing again. "Oh, I'm going to get eaten."

"I'm not eating you." Ed was annoyed now. "I just need some answers, that's all. Could you call that weirdly dressed ghost of the Gryffindor guy?"

"What's makes you think Myrtle can't answer your questions, Mr. Homunculus?" Then, she giggled like a fangirl. "I see you got Truth's message then," Myrtle said. "He's such a pushover. Deliver this, answer that. He never cares for Myrtle's feelings!" That ended with a shriek as Myrtle flew down the toilet bowl again.

"Don't mind her, lad," Nicholas popped up, straightening his neck. "Being the youngest ghost, she is closest to the Gate, you can say."

"So, the message?" Ed asked.

"It's probably true. We can't interfere. Something this direct from God himself. We don't want to be damned to the deepest levels of the Gate, do we?" Nick said, shaking his head. How did he do that without his head dropping off?

Ed groaned. He had to figure it out himself. He rubbed his stomach unconsciously.

"Any other queries, Mr. Elric?" Nicholas asked, giving a broad grin. It seems that he was more comfortable around the so called homunculus. He didn't eat any of them, and was rather…human.

Ed thought for a while. "Hmm… The magical creatures seem to be rather…friendly lately."

"You can hear them," Sir Nicholas gasped. "That is very…odd for your kind. The creatures are so called furthest from the Gate. They are not within Truth's grasp. They are what you call, free." Nick looked rather peaceful. "Beautiful creatures, unbound from the Gate, when they die they are reincarnated. Always, always reincarnated into something different."

"Oh…" Ed said. He was rubbing his fingers together in a rather longing way. "Is it pity?" he asked.

"You do not like pity, do you, Edward?" Nick asked. "Perhaps. But maybe it is because the creatures are known for bearing into one's soul. Especially the eyes of the thestrals. Maybe they see in you something more than your outer shell. Perhaps because they see, they want to save you. You know, from..."

"What?" Ed asked.

"I said too much to a Homunculus," Nicholas chuckled. He gestured to the black book. "Maybe that can shed some light, Edward."

"Hmm," Ed said. "All right. I'd better go. Harry's probably frantically searching for me. He's sometimes too curious for his own good."

Nicholas laughed heartily. "Good day, Edward."

* * *

Last night, Edward found a little information in the midst of the books. He had asked the librarian for permission to stay for the night.

"Well, Professor Hohenheim said something like this would happen," she said kindly. "He said to let you as you won't leave without a fight and I won't want that to happen in my library."

Ed almost laughed. He found out that soul related dark magic could be life draining contracts, special curses and the dementor's kiss. He too did a little research on Harry, Voldy-whats-his-name, the Ministry and a fake philosopher's stone that stayed at Hogwarts for a year. But he never opened the book. He hardly touched it.

Basically, he put an all-nighter.

He couldn't sleep, that's all. Not with that cryptic message.

* * *

As Ed remembered the research from last night, he surrendered. He finally admitted he needed Harry Potter and his information on Voldy. And also the fake philosopher's stone. Reading from books won't solve the whole mystery. Ed sighed at the fact.

Maybe he could pray no one would be too involved.

Ed snorted. _Something more, huh?_

Something human?

He then growled under his breath. "I don't need saving."

And as Edward guessed, Harry was searching for him. He pulled out his famous piece of parchment and tapped his wand saying, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

He saw Ed's name in a pretty weird place. Well, staying in a girls' bathroom to talk to ghosts for ten minutes was pretty weird.

And as usual, Harry told Hermione and Ron. They made up their minds to check on Myrtle sooner or later.

Dinner came and went with Angelina's screaming.

"I'm going to the library," Ed said, getting up.

"But we have detention with Umbridge," Harry said.

_Damn. Wanted to forget about that. _Edward at that moment really missed travelling with Al. And he felt immense dislike for school.

"Let's just get the torture over and done with," Ed muttered. "Wanna bet how much pink would be in her office?"

* * *

Answer to Ed's question: A lot, a lot, a lot of pink. It practically covered everything except the ceiling and furniture. But there were lacy velvet tablecloths draped over the poor tables. Ed wanted to puke, again. This_ must be what it feels like to swallow your own vomit._ He thought, wondering whether he ever did it before.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Elric."

_The toad finally figured out my name. _Ed thought. _Perhaps she grew a brain overnight. _

"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Harry said stiffly. Ed gave a grunt.

Umbridge merely smirked. That was not a good sign.

Then Harry asked to skip detention for the Gryffindor Quidy-something tryouts.

"Oh, no," the toad said, smiling like she just swallowed a fly.

"I don't see any harm done. So why not?" Ed interrupted.

"You see, Mr. Elric. That is his punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories," she said but was interrupted before her next sentence.

"You have no proof that what he said was lies. You also have no proof that what he said was the truth. So what does that make it? If you keep this up it'll look like you're _picking_ on a particular _student_, isn't that right, _Professor _Umbridge?"

The toad's eyes bulged. Ed wondered if her throat would puff up like some frogs. "Interrupting is rather rude, Mr. Elric."

Edward cut in before she could say anything else. "Technically you finished your sentence. So as the punctuation is implied there, it is not interrupting as you have finished speaking."

"That is enough, Mr. Elric. You and Mr. Potter will be here until the end of this week."

Harry would be finding it very hard to control his temper. But Edward was smart mouthing her making it was hilarious, he instead found it difficult to stop laughing.

"Now, you'll be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quill," she said in a honeyed tone, handing the both of them a black quill that smelt like trouble. "Mr. Potter, I want you to write, _I must not tell lies._"

"You haven't given me any ink."

"Oh, you won't need ink," Umbridge then turned to Ed. He inwardly groaned. "Mr. Elric, I want you to write, _I will not speak unless spoken to_."

Edward grunted. He heard a gasp from the table next to him. Glancing at Harry, Ed's eyes widened and he gritted his teeth, catching a glimpse of the cut skin before it healed.

"Yes?"

Ed gave one of the most dagger filled glares. He opened his mouth to speak when Umbridge said, "Mr. Elric, you have to learn lessons are not a debate competition."

"I have a high tolerance for pain," he muttered, staring at his own parchment. _Damn instant regeneration. This is how Truth gets back at me for the blood thing?_

The philosopher's stone are souls. He would not use them for something so minor. Ed thought stubbornly. He didn't have much time. He needed to start writing before toad bitch suspects anything. _Changing components in my blood with an array, would that stop the regeneration? Damn, they'll notice something's up._ Ed needed to stop the healing. _It's like your own soul. It's just part of your soul. Stop the energy that's flowing. _

No one ever tried stopping instant regeneration. Apparently, it was handy. It would definitely attract a lot of unwanted attention but the homunculi didn't seem to mind. Edward really didn't want any more complications. He strained his brain concentrating on controlling the energy from the philosopher's stone embedding in his soul.

He began writing.

The skin on Edward's hand began burning, stinging with searing pain as the words scratched themselves on his skin. And without the red sparks of electricity, it healed and smoothed out, just like Harry's hand, leaving a rash like patch.

Then, Ed began writing at a fast speed. Keeping his body busy helped in the concentration. And he just kept hanging on until the end of detention.

The words would leave a scar sooner or later.

* * *

Mr. Alchemist, you really are the biggest idiot I have chosen. You're flat out refusing this wonderful gift from me. Such an idiot, a waste of my generosity. Then how did you come so far?

Why do you insist on acting so human?

Because of your brother? Because of that father? Because of the people you don't want to involve?

But so strong to complete something no one has ever done. So strong to obtain such control over the raw energy that is the philosopher's stone. Is it out of stubbornness? Is it out of fear? Perhaps out of love?

But such a hopeless struggle, little birdie.

In the end you're still in the cage.

You still belong to me.

Still part of forever's tragedy.

* * *

Edward was absolutely exhausted. He could feel his stomach doing flips and cartwheels. He didn't show that on his face though.

He was so tired he didn't notice the piece of parchment. Harry's was full of red words. Red 'ink'. His parchment was very much filled. The words were black.

Once Ed was free from that frilly pink hellhole, he cursed and swore like there was no tomorrow, waking a few annoyed and disgusted paintings. But as usual, he didn't give a damn. Harry was feeling rather intimidated, I guess. He silently absorbed the part about 'f**king Umbitch, gonna make her life hell', as Ed threw his tantrum. It was getting dark and they had to get back to the common room soon.

"Rough night?" a voice asked, kind with a hint of amusement. There was the shuffling of feet and a door opening. Ed spotted the golden blonde hair. Harry stopped in his tracks.

"Professor Hohenheim," Harry said. Ed tensed and gave a glare at the figure that appeared from a classroom. The door was shut with hardly a sound.

"Well," Hohenheim said before yawning. "No use crying over spilt milk."

Who would cry over that junk? Ed thought. He began walking, wanting to prevent any sort of conversation from happening. The common room was not far ahead hopefully, depending on whether he was going in the right direction.

"Edward, can I speak with you in private for a moment?" Hohenheim caught up with Harry behind him.

"No."

Hohenheim shooed Harry away as Ed took a turn into another corridor. Instinct told him it was the wrong turn but he wasn't heading there anymore. Not towards the common room, not towards the library.

"You didn't come to class anyway."

Ed ignored him.

"Don't know what Albus was thinking." Hohenheim sighed. "It would be useless anyway. What I'm teaching is so basic and the only one who can grasp it is Miss. Granger."

Ed remained silent; his pace became quick, even though he was heading to nowhere. The corridor was grey and moonlight gazed down from the windows. Everything seemed still. There was no wind even though they were on a somewhat high floor. Crickets chirped and the forbidden forest looked even darker and gloomier from where the two blondes were. Everything was still, almost dead.

"A cold war, Edward?" Hohenheim asked, sighing. "But it's strange. You said 'for Alphonse' and yet..."

"You don't have the right to talk about Al," Ed growled. His hands were clenched up, white gloves crinkling. "Last time, Al forgave you. If Al were here, he would go to your class." Ed's hand reached to his chest. "His soul is part of the philosopher's stone." Edward clutched his chest like it was hurting. "But in the end, he's not really here, is he?"

Ed had slowed down, taking glances at the forest from outside the windows. He just outright refused to look at Hohenheim. "Do you blame me?" the deserting father asked in a heavy voice, like each word was lead.

"No. It was stupidity that caused this," Edward muttered.

"Then, if I told you to stop, would you?" Hohenheim then grasped the shoulder of his son. "Forfeit the game." It was neither a demand nor a request. It was almost like a plea.

"Who would pay the penalty?" Ed asked, his voice becoming fiercer. He did not like the begging tone. It sounded like pity. Edward did not like being pitied. He loathed it.

"I would," Hohenheim said. "You can move on in life. Here…"

"You have no right, Hohenheim!" Edward snarled. His outburst rang through the deserted corridor.

That caused a long silence between them. Hohenheim looked like he was wallowing in grief, his eyes just staring at the ground as if focusing on the footsteps of both his and his son's feet.

"I met Ai," Hohenheim finally said. "What she said…that you…about the game…" he fumbled, trying to find the right words. "Its…It's like an incurable disease."

Ed snorted. "That's stupid." He began walking really fast again.

"I know…"_ But it really looked like that kind of pain. _"It's just that I want to help and…"

"Don't need it, bastard," Ed spat out. He then turned and finally decided to head to the common room. He wanted a nice, comfy bed tonight.

"Dumbledore's phoenix sang to you," Hohenheim suddenly said, totally random.

"It must be a dumb bird, singing to a homunculus," Ed muttered under his breath. His father could hear the almost inaudible sound pretty well though.

"You're not the bad person."

Ed felt him trying to reach out. And Ed's defenses came out almost instantly. He didn't need anyone. He didn't want anyone. His eyes flashed, different emotions appearing a fading within nanoseconds. And his eyes were cold at the end, a sense of hurt and betrayal.

"If you want to help, you can by leaving me alone. Like those fifteen years. Everything was fine then."

Hohenheim froze in his footsteps as the shadow of his son disappeared by the corner.

You are striving forward with your two feet. But the path is filled with thorns, broken glass, red hot charcoal and awaiting snakes. Walking forward hurts. Yet there is no one beside you to ease the pain, or at lease share it with you.

Hohenheim was biting his lip as he removed his glasses, clenching them in his hand. His shoulders trembled as his rubbed his temples with the other hand, fighting back a nonexistent headache. Tears seeped and trickled from behind the hand that covered his eyes.

Fathers cry when their children are suffering. Being four hundred years old doesn't change that fact.

Hohenheim wanted to atone. But when he muttered a 'sorry' no one could hear him. Except the wind, perhaps. But that night was as still as death, so there was no wind that could carry his apology.

* * *

**Hello**

**I don't own Harry Potter or FMA, I just torture the characters a bit.**

**I feel so good after this chapter :)…**** Was it all right? Review please.**

**Okay, so I'll start with telling you there will be some implied Naruto themes. Just a tiny bit coming up soon. I canceled Ed's alchemy class because I really have no idea how that would go...sorry…**

**The library scene was sort of meant to creep people out. I mean, even I was creeped out when I wrote it. Maybe it's just me; it is 3am in the morning… If you can guess what Truth's second riddle is, feel free to review me your thoughts. **

**The toilet scene okay, I guess. Myrtle's only Truth's messenger, warped I know. Nick's so far the only ghost who is perfectly comfortable with holding a conversation with Ed. He thinks Ed is a good guy, despite being a dreaded homunculus. So in Hogwarts, Nick is Ed's first friend. The part about magical creatures would be explained in more detail in the next chapter.**

**Umbridge's detention was nice because of Ed's backtalking. But then things start to go downhill. I think the part about instant regeneration was a little confusing, wasn't it? I seriously need feedback on that. Ed just doesn't like using other people's souls. Suggestions perhaps? Help is much appreciated :)**

**Hohenheim's talk was touching? I wanna cry… **

**THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your support, reviews and everything! :)**

**ssapphireangel **


	9. Garden of Sinners

**Chapter 8 Garden of Sinners**

'Ministry Seeks Educational Reform Dolores Umbridge Appointed First Ever High Inquisitor' was what Edward Elric first saw when Hermione opened the newspaper. He snorted.

"That must be one wacked-up newspaper," He snapped his own book shut (Dark Philosophy – a whole lot of crap). "But then it must be the Ministry that's got shit for brains."

"I go with both, mate," Ron said. "Whoa, you look like hell!"

Edward figured that out when he looked in the mirror. He had dark rings under his eyes that stood out on ghastly pale skin. His eyes were bloodshot and lips were turning slightly green. But Ed waved it off. Other than being groggy and having the urge to fall asleep standing, he was fine.

"Rough night?" Harry asked.

Ed didn't feel complied to reply. He merely nodded, scratching his unruly golden hair before putting it into his trademark braid.

"You like long hair?" Ron asked, watching his actions.

"Got a problem?" Ed shot back.

"Why do you always wear gloves? You do that even when you go to sleep!" Harry said, obviously shooting without thinking.

That got him a glare. "Stay out of my space. Besides, England weather is terrible."

Edward groaned as he made his way to classes. The weather was more than terrible, it was outrageous. His ports were always aching and the dreams were getting worse. He had trouble restraining screams. At least his stomach wasn't giving any problems.

"Enough daydreaming, Elric," Snape said, handing an essay with a big 'O' at the top. "Remember, detention tonight."

Edward groaned. Then he was even more frustrated because Divination was next. Grabbing his things he stormed out of class with a dark don't-piss-me-off aura around him. See pass the scariness and he looked like a child throwing a tantrum.

Harry and Ron got out of the dungeons, quite a distance away. "Since Edward has detention tonight, we can go find Myrtle," Hermione whispered.

Divination was a thousand times worst because of a certain pink toad spawn. Edward drummed his finger on the table irritably, watching Harry and Ron, as well as his own partner. His partner had his nose in the Dream Oracle the whole time, perhaps too frightened to say anything. Ed's glaring was more intimidating than usual.

_What did I dream about?_ He wondered as he listened to the conversation between Professors Trelawney and Umbridge. _War, blood, gore, Envy killing everyone. Nothing unusual. Just blood, pain, more blood, more pain. _There are many words to describe his dreams: Anger, despair, loneliness, sorrow, insanity, hate, pain…

Everything that revolved around the seven sins.

Edward only found certain calmness when talking to Nick. His one and perhaps only friend would listen. Offering advice, but not pity. So he unconsciously made going to the toilet a habit, the weirdest place to have a conversation with a ghost.

"So, Edward, have you read the book?" Nick asked, floating near the sinks and adjusting his head to fit his shoulders.

"Naw," Ed replied casually, folding his arms and sighing.

"Hmm… You should start. It's probably of great importance." Nick was silent for a moment. "You look worst than usual, Edward. Any troubles I could help with?"

"The nights are awful. The days are better than usual. Still horrible, but better."

"He's giving you a hard time. Such misfortune to be chosen, dear Edward."

"I know, what an annoying bastard."

"Most unhealthy too. Ah, the Chosen. Like Harry Potter. He's going to have a tough year."

"Even if you don't believe, fate's such a bitch." Ed began rubbing the joints of his metal arm, hearing small creaks and metal squeaking. He'll need to do maintenance soon.

Nick thought for a while, rubbing his translucent chin. "I suggest…relaxing. In the forest, admiring the great creatures that wonder to and fro. Just avoid the centaurs; they can be a little cranky." Nick grinned and winked.

Ed smiled back. "I get it. See you tomorrow, Nick."

* * *

"Lock the door, Elric," Snape said, not looking up from whatever was on his desk. "I don't want any unnecessary distractions."

The office was very dim, neat, but he couldn't see much of the neatness. There were many shelves and god-knows-what were in the jars that sat there. A pensive was at the side, looking dusty. A small black table was at the other side with a chair. And Severus Snape was at his desk, stacks of paper filling it.

Ed grunted but did as told. He dropped his bag on the small desk and sat down. "So what do I owe the pleasure?" he said sarcastically.

Snape glared at him. Ed glared back. It could turn into a staring contest.

"You want to know about alchemy, right? So get on with it," Ed said, breaking the murderous tension.

"Perhaps a demonstration would suffice," Snape said, gesturing at a big round moonstone on his table.

Edward got up and clapped his hands over the smooth stone Blue lightning cackled. The stone changed into a small figure or Alex Armstrong. Then he clapped his hands and changed it back.

"Comprehension, deconstruction and reconstruction," Snape muttered. "Manipulating and altering matter using natural energy. These days only skilled wizards can utilize such control."

"I see you know a lot about alchemy already. Can I go now?" Ed had a look of boredom.

Snape uncharacteristically ignored the comment. "What I cannot figure out is that why you and your father do not need a circle to perform such acts."

"Skilled alchemists can use their own bodies as a circle."

"Hilarious, your father said the same thing," Snape sneered.

Edward felt his blood boiling at being compared to his father. He couldn't stand being so like the bastard. There was a moment of silence, a little mental debate disguised as more dagger-like stares. Then, an idea formed in his head. Ed grabbed the chair and sat down, closer to Snape, a smirk forming on his face.

"Alchemy's law of Equivalent Exchange, what would you give me in return for such information?" Edward asked.

Snape raised an eyebrow. The brat, he was clever, in the cunning and witty way. Ambition was also clearly shown in his golden eyes. Yet why wasn't he sorted into Slytherin? The golden haired prodigy was nothing like the Griffydors. Snape noticed how he didn't fit with them, how much Ed wasn't like the impulsive idiots. Snape had the mind to ask the ragged old hat. But for now, he decided to play along.

"So, Elric, what do you have in mind?"

"Firstly, I'm currently researching, so I need a place where nosy kids and ugly toad won't bother me. Secondly, I want access to the restricted section. Thirdly, I don't want anything said or done to leave this room. And I mean not even to the old coot."

If Snape was in his usual 'Professor' mode, he would have docked a hundred points for rudeness and calling Dumbledore an 'old coot'. But then, they weren't in the status of teacher and student.

"I could arrange more detentions in the future." Snape took up his quill and began writing something. His cold black eyes then met Ed's. "And you have my word that I will not mention anything." He picked up the piece of parchment and handed it to Ed.

_Mr. Edward Elric is allowed access to the restricted session indefinitely. _

_Signed,_

_Professor Severus Snape_

* * *

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were hurrying to the second floor girl's bathroom. Only when the door was shut, they relaxed and caught their breaths.

The toilet brought back memories. Their illegal brewing of the Polyjuice Potion, the battle in the Chamber of Secrets, Lockheart losing his memories and saving Ginny Weasley.

Then giggling filled the air.

"Ooh, Harry. Finally coming to visit?" The translucent ghost of the girl's bathroom appeared in front of them, a smile on her face.

"Hi Myrtle," Harry said quickly.

"You don't visit as often now, Harry. Myrtle has been very lonely." There was a sob.

"Err…sorry?"

Hermione stepped in. "Has Edward Elric been visiting, Myrtle?"

The sobbing got louder. "Oh I see now. You only came to ask about Mr. Homunculus! You don't care about Myrtle!" The ghost was now moaning as her name implied.

"Wait…Homunculus? Is that Ed?" Harry cut in.

"Oh I can't tell you anything. It'll be interfering. He'll get mad you know." Moaning Myrtle nodded like it was an obvious fact. "But then again, Harry, he said you're also part of the game. Oooh, you'll end up like Mr. Homunculus. All alone and waiting for a cold, slow, agonizing death." Her words ended in a whisper as she floated so close to Harry their noses were touching.

"Enough, Myrtle," a voice commanded.

A flash of anger was seen on the ghost girl's face as she flew upwards. "What? Myrtle's telling the truth! He loves Myrtle and tells Myrtle everything!"

"Enough!" the voice shouted. Harry realized it was Sir Nicholas, usually calm and jolly ghost of Gryffindor. And he had never seen Nick this angry. "If you say anymore, he'll get mad." The ghost was trying to keep his voice leveled, which resulted in a slightly shaking tone.

Myrtle began crying again. "Now he just cares about Mr. Homunculus. Now no one loves Myrtle anymore…" The female ghost sobbed and dived into the nearest toilet.

"Harry, don't go into this matter anymore," Nick said gravely. He floated around and wanted to make his exit through the wall.

"Wait, what is she talking about?" Harry asked, wanting to grab the ghost but only went through him.

"Don't ask any more."

"It's about Voldemort, isn't it?" he said.

"No. This time, it has nothing to do with the Dark Lord." Nick turned around, his face very serious. "You cannot be part of the game, Harry Potter. You have not been approached and still untouched by the cruelty of Truth. That is why you must not go deeper into it. Any further and you will be in the game, you won't be able to come out, you will play with stakes higher than your life and you will become the fifth sacrifice. So don't question this anymore."

Harry was shocked silent. Nicholas was inwardly glad to see he made an impact. But before he could leave, Harry called him again.

"Is Ed involved in this?"

Nick felt a steady sorrow flowing into his unbeating heart. "Too late to be saved," he whispered, no one could hear him. He silently floated into the walls.

A long silence. Only the dripping of water from the tap could be heard. Drip, drip, drip.

"That was way creepy," Ron said, breaking the climaxing silence.

"Myrtle mentioned two people. A 'he' and 'Mr. Homunculus'," Hermione said. "We could say that Ed's a Homunculus but that has to be impossible."

"Why?" Harry and Ron asked.

"Because Homunculi are very, very dark creatures. When I was researching about the Chamber of Secrets, the book which had the Basilisk also had a small section on Homunculi. They are immortal beings that cannot be hurt physically or by spells. But to sustain their immortality, they must eat…souls, a lot of human souls," Hermione explained.

"But Ed can't be. He saved me, he got hurt."

"I suppose if their supply of souls is cut off, it can happen. Homunculi are bloodthirsty monsters and they'll do anything, kill anyone for their immortality." Hermione had a disgusted tone about it.

"That doesn't sound like Ed at all," Harry pointed out.

"I don't know. The book says there were only seven of them in the world, and they were all killed in the in the war of the dark wizard Grindelwald. Grindelwald had the homunculi on his side. How they died is a total mystery. Some say Grindelwald destroyed them when they became rebellious. But the books didn't give any solid facts. It was like the homunculi vanished off the face of the earth." Hermione sighed, making a mental note to check out the library again. "The fact that homunculi look exactly like humans, so since Myrtle called Ed one, he could be. And if he is, then the 'he' person may be…" There was a gulp. "…Voldemort."

"There're still some holes though," Harry pointed out with the smallest hope that Ed's name would be cleared.

"You're right, Harry. But it is said that the only thing ghosts truly fear is homunculi. Because they are true soul eating monsters." Hermione said softly, remembering the weird looks the ghosts of Hogwarts gave to her blonde friend. She now knew what they meant.

"He could have saved me to get inside Hogwarts," Harry said, feeling betrayed all of a sudden. "We have to keep an eye on him. We can't trust him."

* * *

Truth was laughing his head off. Poor, poor Edward Elric. He would have to reward his messenger for creating such suspicion, such _entertainment_.

"Let's all play a game!" Truth exclaimed like a child, whipping out a pure white book from nowhere. It floated in front of him and he stuck out an invisible finger and drew in little squiggles.

Harry Potter would prove to be such a wonderful pawn.

Fear

It lingered everywhere like a bad stain. Or a stench that nothing can remove. Truth liked the smell of fear.

* * *

Edward studied Snape very carefully in the moment of silence. He wasn't supposed to trust _anyone_. But there was some part of him that was sure Snape wouldn't betray him. Gut instinct, it could be called. Ed noticed in those charcoal eyes a sense of sincerity, bitterness and loyalty. Maybe anger, maybe indifference and a whole lot of emotions tightly shut up inside. Edward was curious but at the same time hardly cared. That was until he noticed a feeling of longing within the Potions Master.

Edward hardly ever went that deep into someone just by looking at the person's eyes. And when the feeling of longing came up, he outwardly flinched.

"I decide to…trust you," Edward said, slightly gritting on the words.

"Most unusual, I must say," Snape drawled.

Ed gave him a different look. He then snorted. "I must be crazy."

He smirked and began to remove his long and annoying robe, without saying a word.

"Let's get on to lesson one," Ed said in a mocking tone.

He removed his white gloves and flexed his automail arm, observing Snape's reaction. The man was shocked, cleverly hiding it in fact, before raising an eyebrow and leaning forward an inch, an indication for an explanation.

"This is the result of pure and utter stupidity," Edward muttered. "So, Severus, what do you know of human transmutation?"

Either Snape ignored being called by his first name or was too shocked to notice it.

"Water, 35 liters, Carbon, 20 kg, Ammonia, 4 liters, Lime, 1.5 kg, Phosphorous, 800 g, Salt, 250 g, Saltpeter, 100 g, Sulfur, 80 g, Fluorine, 7.5 g, Iron, 5 g, Silicon, 3 g and fifteen other elements in trace amounts," Edward recited monotonously while grabbing his bag rummaging. "Humans were made pretty cheaply," he said bitterly, eyes dulling. He pulled a small box from the depths of his bag and opened it.

Snape raised his eyebrow. "What are you doing, Elric?"

The question seemed to snap Ed out of his trance. "Maintenance. About time too, my ports are killing me."

"How do those work?" Snape asked.

"Electricity from the brain. Use of nerves. If you want to know more, ask my mechanic."

"Electronic devices don't work in Hogwarts, Elric," Snape muttered, getting up as his robes brushed the floor in a haughty way. Ed scowled at sentence which sounded like an insult.

"I know. But they didn't break down during class or anything," Ed replied.

Snape made a sound with his throat. Brandishing his wand, he tapped the metal arm. Ed felt a shock of some sort as magic hit his nerves.

"A warning would be nice!" he growled. He was sure he could see a smirk on the Potion Master's face.

"Your leg too, isn't it?" he said. "It's more obvious, Miss. Granger may sniff it out."

Edward snorted as he oiled his joints. The aching had disappeared, but his mouth remained in a hard line. "It took my limbs and my brother. It's equivalent exchange. No price can be enough for a human soul. And because of that, I could do alchemy without a circle. End of story."

Snape had returned to his desk. He could see that Ed was telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but not lies. It was just the lack of information. But he still wanted to know.

"Why?"

"We were young. And it was our mother," Ed said.

"What about your father?"

"He wasn't there."

Human transmutation was the ultimate taboo. It was said that none could survive the rebound. Snape had worked closely with alchemy. The thought had crossed his mind once but he knew better. It was a sin to trespass on God's territory. That was the reason for the deaths of those who tried that forbidden art.

It was a sin. But '_He wasn't there_'. If he were there, there wouldn't have been a sin. So who is the sinner? The one who acted or the one who _wasn't there_?

And what about forgiveness?

Ed thought. _The story was simple. I lost my limbs and could do alchemy without a circle because I was a big idiot who did human transmutation._

That was as far as he would go.

Snape knew that it wasn't all that was behind the enigma known as Edward Elric. He was interested, to be honest. But he knew it was a _delicate _subject, laugh, laugh, like Lily.

So Severus Snape gathered a stack of parchment which was seventh years' essays. "Why is it that your lightning caused by alchemic reactions different all the time?" he asked.

Ed's eyes widened. "You noticed?"

"It's hard not to. It is quite the distinctive change of colour."

Ed made a sound with his throat as he quickly found a way to avoid the topic. "Well, let's leave it till another day. Now that's over, I would like to get back to research…"

"Well I'll trust you not to cause any disturbances," Snape said.

Ed thought. _He may be a bastard but at least he's not a nosy prick. _Edward clenched his fists and hovered over his bag. He then decided and took out a pure black book. He stared at it for a couple of minutes. Snape looked up from his grading and could notice his slight trembling. What was so fearful of a book? Ed then plopped on the chair and turned to page one, chapter one: The Truth of Equivalent Exchange.

And he began reading.

There always more to Truth than whatever's beyond it.

They say the truth hurts. Well it cuts like a very, very sharp knife.

Edward snapped the book shut. He had absolutely no sense of time in that dimly lit room but he felt exhaustion coating his bones and muscles. His eyelids were on the verge of closing and his brain had officially shut down.

"I'll be going now," Ed said, gathering his stuff. He was sweating slightly and paler than never before.

"Elric, I am most curious. You would rather trust me, other than so many, kinder, trust worthier individuals. Why?"

"Well, I happen to be very close to death. So close that I could smell it from a mile away." Edward didn't turn. "And you seem to want it badly."

The room was left with a stench, a pungent odor. The smell of despair, bitterness, fear and desire.

* * *

**Hi**

**I know, I have no excuse. You can come beat me up for being so very, very late. I express my most sincere apologies. Sorry. I don't exactly have an updating schedule and the latest I try to be is one chapter every month. **

**About the toilet and Myrtle scene, it makes sense right? I mean, it makes sense to me, but do you think so? Harry has all the right to be suspicious of Ed and everything. **

**If you're wondering why Snape didn't know of the automail but McGonagall did, it's because Hohenheim doesn't trust Snape at all and only told McGonagall because she can keep an eye on Ed. So Dumbledore knows too. However, Hohenheim didn't tell the reasons, just facts and probably lies like 'he lost his limbs in a car crash' or something. So in conclusion, Snape knows something more about Ed. **

**So how was the detention? I need suggestions about this because it's going to be happening quite often. I can see the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Not yaoi, of course. **

**Am I still okay with this story? I hope I still have your attention.**

**Please review, thanks **

**ssapphireangel**


	10. Boundary of Emptiness

**Chapter 9 ****Boundary of Emptiness**

"Look, look, Mom!"

A boy ran towards his mother, in his hands were a small wooden horse. The woman who stood in front of the hedges of tomatoes turned and smiled gently at her son.

The tomatoes were fresh, a ripe scarlet.

The boy shoved the toy at his mother. Brown long hair tied in a ponytail that rested on her delicate shoulder, her warm face so kind and eyes full of light.

Tomatoes lay on her apron as the woman lifted the white fabric to carry them.

"That is wonderfully made, Ed." The mother's voice was soft.

The woman's smile was so light, so _beautiful_.

The scarlet tomatoes fell to the ground, some landing with a thud and were squashed, others rolling to the side. Crimson juice pooled like blood.

"But why Ed?" her voice became croaky, wheezing as if she was choking. "_Why couldn't you make me right?_"

The perfect picture became grotesque. Darkness crawled up the walls, slabs of gore hanging from the walls and ceiling. Blood trickled down, flowing and pooling on the ground as the pile of flesh twitched, breathing. Wheezing, sickening cracks and a dying voice could be heard. The hand moved, trying to crawl, to push itself off the ground.

"_Ed…ward…_"

"Nii-san…"

Little brother's voice wasn't screaming.

The boy turned, eyes widening in fear.

"Nii-san…"

"_Why didn't you save me?_"

He could no longer hold back screams. Everything was so bottled up, it became so stuffy. So tight, it hurt, it was agonizing. Edward woke with a shriek.

It was a cry of pure pain.

Ed was clutching the sheets of his bed as if trying to rip them apart. When he was brought to reality by a splitting headache, his gloved hands flew to his eyes and forehead. He was trying to make it all go away. He was trying to force his tears to disappear.

"Sorry…sorry sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry…" he muttered in his strangled voice.

"Ed! Ed, what's wrong?"

_Go away, whoever you are._

He focused on whispering his apologies like a mantra.

"Ed! Are you alright? You're screaming. What's wrong?"

Concerned voice, worried voice, voice that cared. Impossible. No one would care. Voice was the wind. Voice didn't exist.

When a hand touched his shoulder, he yelped. Ed finally removed his hands from his eyes. Everything was a blur, random shapes floated around. Then he realized the intense pain from his back, and made a choked sound and retched to his side.

"Ron! Get Professor McGonagall!"

After Ed finished puking out whatever was left of his stomach, he coughed violently. His eyesight was still a blur of white, black and red. He felt like someone rammed a huge sword right through his chest.

Harry was having the panic of his life. Of course it was different from fighting Voldemort. His friend looked like he just got a huge dose of the Cruciatus Curse, for Merlin's sake! His heart was pounding as he tried sitting Ed up, frantically recalling healing spells to no avail. Harry noticed that Ed's right arm was very hard but skipped over the thought when the blonde began vomiting over the sheets.

What scared him was that the puke was tinged red prominently. Harry's mind was a whirl. Blood, he's throwing up blood.

The next moment, Edward Elric was in the hospital wing. He groaned, not because of the pain, but because of the fact that he was in a hospital. Other than the blood pounding in his brain and the slight burning sensation in his back, he felt quite fine. Tired, sore, hurting, but fine.

Ed noticed the school's healer, Madam Pomfrey and inwardly groaned. _Who the heck am I kidding? _He thought. _This lady's never going to let me go._

Ed felt weak. Truth was playing with him again, he was sure of it. The fact that he gave the 'God' such a good show pissed him off.

"How long have I been here?" he asked, slightly shocked at his gruff voice. He sounded like he just woke up after getting drunk.

"Just fifteen minutes ago, dear," Madam Pomfrey said kindly.

_Great._ Ed thought. _I could still catch the second period. No one would notice this soap opera ever happened._

"Where do you think you're going?" The nurse caught him getting up.

"Err…class?" Ed said, meeting the glare.

"You lie back down, mister." She looked really cross as she pushed him back on the bed. "I just found out that one of the students have two missing limbs and a couple of missing organs. No one your age should even…"

"What is your point?" Ed cut in rudely.

"Dear Merlin, there's not even a cut or anything! Your organs… this is probably why you look feminine…"

"What did you say?" he got up and yelled.

"Sit down, Elric! You shouldn't be standing, or doing anything!" she scolded.

"I'm fine," he said heatedly. "It was just a tough night."

"You are not going anywhere!" The healer folded her arms and glared at him.

"Why should I stay here? You can't do anything anyway!" he yelled.

The woman felt insulted. But she reminded herself that the boy had been a muggle for the most of his life so he never knew of magic healing. (Yes, everyone knows about him being muggle.) Madam Pomfrey's face softened and her eyes changed. Ed knew what that was. The thing he hated almost as much as the Truth: pity.

"Should I call your father, Mr. Elric?"

He frowned even harder. "No," he growled before pausing. "How many know of my _relation_ to that bastard?"

The healer looked shocked. That patient of hers, how could he speak of his_ father_ with such disdain? She met his glare. That intensity in his eyes almost made her usual stern self falter. Madam Pomfrey gathered her calm.

"The whole staff. I do not know about the students."

Ed's eyes flickered to the ground. His hands were clenched, breathing steady and even. His face did not tell what was going on in his mind.

"I'm fine. This kind of thing happens sometimes," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Madam Pomfrey looked shocked all over again.

"I usually just take my pills and it's over. My life's not in danger or anything."

She sighed before glaring at him and the white bed.

Ed was now pissed. He really hated hospitals.

"Look, Madam. It's either I get out of here with a bunch of potions or I just get out of here," he snapped, emphasizing on the fact that he would be leaving.

"You are not going anywhere. The potion for regrowing flesh is currently heating. Lie down and it'll be ready in a few minutes." She gently pushed him to the bed.

"What?" he asked mouth agape.

"Yes. Regrowing organs are easier; your arm and leg should take a longer time. I can say; that's quite a big part of you missing. And we have to detach those metal contraptions from you skin…"

"There is no need," he interrupted coldly.

"What do you mean…?" she began, only to be interrupted again.

"I don't want you to," Ed said firmly.

"Why wouldn't you want that?" she asked. She was giving him a strange look.

He didn't answer for a long time. Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhy?

Those wounds were a symbol. They were scars that represent his binding to the Truth. The determination, the wish, the desire, the promise. Removing them would ease the pain but it gave the illusion of abandoning his brother.

Ed suddenly felt empty.

"You are better off not knowing," he said, slower than before.

Empty and lonely.

"Edward…" She noticed the sorrow mixed with pain in his glazed gaze. She reached out to touch him, but he shifted away.

Tainted.

"You can't do anything. No one can do anything," he muttered. Madam Pomfrey somehow knew he wasn't referring to his limbs or insides.

What is the point?

Edward was convinced. He convinced himself that he could win the damn game. He convinced himself that he would fulfill the desire of Truth and reclaim back his brother. And everything would return back to normal. He convinced himself that everything would go back to normal. Just without him in that picture.

Cold. Lonely. Empty.

"Can I go now?" he asked.

* * *

Edward Elric hurried to his dorm. To his surprised, it was all cleaned up, not a trace of his 'mess up' could be seen, or smelled. He took a two-minute shower and dressed before gathering his books and making his way to the Transfiguration classroom.

Everything was surely some form of punishment.

Look, torture in the form of a pink toad woman greeted Ed. He grunted in annoyance, making his way to his seat, ignoring all forms of weird looks from the classroom. He thought class would get his mind off things for a while but he was sorely mistaken. Forgotten pain would be replaced by another, and irritation flooded his system.

He tapped his Thestral hair wand on the table, frustrated, his cat Evie purring in front of him. Ed sighed and scratched the kitten's head.

"Ed," Harry whispered in the midst of Professor McGonagall's speech. "Are you all right?"

"Yup," he replied, trying to be reassuring. "Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion and I'm fine."

His lie actually sounded convincing. His voice sounded awfully fake though.

"_Hem, hem_, Professor McGonagall," the toad said in a sickly sweet voice. "It has come to my attention that one of your students has not been practicing in your class."

Ed swore violently in his mind.

"Well," McGonagall answered calmly. "Edward Elric has confirmed himself as unable to perform Transfiguration."

The Professor had quoted Ed's own words. But of course that wouldn't satisfy the fat toad. Actually, if McGonagall had been 'conversing' with his father as she said she was, she would know why he didn't transfigure. Because of Nina. Because, similar to the Ishbalan's thinking of Alchemy, Transfiguration was simply a 'violation'.

"Tut tut." Umbridge smiled horribly. "Well, why not Mr. Elric try a simple spell for a first?" She pretended to think. "How about second year spell _Vera Vetio_? He does have his pet with him."

Edward felt his blood boil. How dare she? It took most of his self control to stop him from yelling at the toad woman. His voice wavered with anger.

"I would have to refuse."

"You don't have to be _afraid _of failure, Mr. Elric," she said.

"I refuse." This time, it was more of a growl.

The smile on the toad's face faded. "Do it, Elric."

"I don't see you making me, Professor."

There was a frown on her face, making her features bulge up and seem more, toad-like. "That'll be another week of detention for your cheek."

He gave a glare. One of his fiercest glares, right in the eye of the High Inquisitor. Umbridge almost flinched. She soon recovered though.

"It really isn't that hard, Mr. Elric." Her wand was drawn and before he knew it, there were three taps on the fur of Evie and a simple, "Vera Vertio."

The kitten morphed into a simple gold goblet.

"We'll have a talk about this later, Professor." Umbridge gave another disgusting smile. "You may continue with the lesson."

Edward raised his own wand. "Fi…" He couldn't seem to find the words. His mind was filled with pictures of that girl who merged with her pet dog. That girl who had called to him. He swallowed. "Finite Incantatum."

Punishment. Definitely punishment.

For all those lives he couldn't save.

McGonagall seemed impassive. At least she wasn't _showing _her pity. Evie miao-ed as she leapt into his arms.

_Sorry._

How Ed hated this school. It seemed to take him apart bit by bit. Soon there won't anything left. Not like that was anything new.

So empty.

* * *

Cry, let emotion pour from inside in the form of tears. What are tears? Salt water that are produced from the tear glands in your eyes. But there seemed to be nothing to cry from. Does that mean that your tear glands have stopped functioning? Or that emotion has run out?

Ed went to the bathroom, again, as soon as classes were over.

As soon as he stepped into the deserted bathroom, he began thinking. Why did he come here? What was he expecting? It's not like anyone could change anything. He saw the friendly ghost floating by the sinks. Nick was already there, waiting for him with a frantic look on his translucent face.

Why did he come? "To talk to Nick," a part of his mind said. Ed could have laughed but what came from his mouth was a scoff. It was wrong of him. He told himself not to get attached to anyone, only with Al as an exception. But here he was, about to have a conversation with his ghost friend.

"Edward, I heard about your…incident in the morning. Are you all right?" Nick asked genuinely.

Ed tried to wave it off casually. But it didn't quite work.

Nick was flabbergasted. "He's practically torturing you! Why I'm going to give him a piece…"

Ed silenced the ghost with a light punch in the arm. "Hey, he's a bastard who controls the entire universe. Don't be an idiot looking for your second death," he said.

Nick rubbed his right arm, muttering under his breath.

"You know Transfiguration is an abomination to me. Alchemists who aren't wizards should feel the same." Ed's flesh hand was in his pocket, rubbing the carved surface of the silver pocket watch. "It's like we know, some of us even experienced, the consequences of tampering with life. It is so fragile, yet these wizards have it so easy. They can just manipulate it back and forth."

Nick sighed. "All of us will meet things we cannot accept. Just like how I protest on why I cannot join the Headless Hunt. I'm ninety-nine percent headless, yet why does that one percent make me different from the rest of those knights?"

Ed found the comparison actually made sense, no matter how funny it sounded.

Nick shook his head. "Until today I still blame the guy who wanted to chop my head off, yet did a terrible job at it."

Ed half-laughed.

"I can see you're feeling better," Nick said before he sighed. "A pity this isn't the best place for a chat." He floated a little higher. "Tampering with life? It is quite ironic for you to be discussing this topic with someone who is already dead."

"You do want to know, don't you?"

Nick chuckled. "I am curious, but I know shouldn't go beyond certain boundaries."

Ed smiled. "I'll tell you the sugarcoated version."

"Are you taking me for a wimp, Edward?"

"Nah, just equivalent exchange."

Ed lifted a silver pocket watch from his pocket. That watch had been with him throughout some of the worst most challenging parts of his life. It was just a reminder, a force to push him forward. "There was another State Alchemist. He seemed nice at first, but usually half of those guys I meet turn out to be bastards. He lived with his daughter, Nina, and a pet dog, Alexander. He specializes in making chimeras. That son of a bitch transmutated his wife two years ago to make a chimera who could speak human tongue. My brother and I were too late. He did transmutation Nina and Alexander. There was no way to turn them back."

"_Big…bwother…"_

Nick gasped. "That's terrible… no wonder you…"

"_Lwets…pway…" _

Edward opened the watch with a soft click. The words 'Don't Forget 3 Oct 10' stood out. The standstill time of 5.46 haunted him.

"She died in the end. Killed by another to be 'put out of that misery'." Edward closed the silver watch and opened it again. "We're just human beings then. Insignificant human beings who couldn't even save one girl," Ed muttered, knowing Nick could hear him clearly. "I was just human. A useless, insignificant human being, who couldn't save his own brother, let alone a little girl."

He hardened himself to the point that what he said included no emotion. Just indifference.

"_I HATE YOU!"_

But his eyes told a different story. The amount of guilt and sorrow was so great it was a wonder why they didn't overflow and spill as tears.

Nick sighed as Edward began clicking his pocket watch open and close. Each time, staring at it as the words and numbers were etched into his brain. "I just have to say one thing, Edward. If you move forward for their sakes, aren't you just looking back? You walk with your head turned; it's only a matter of time before you crash into something."

Ed's eyes widened and his State Alchemist pocket watch snapped shut.

* * *

Ed left the toilet (he felt strange spending so much time in it). He groaned, long and low as he dragged his feet through the corridors. He met Harry on the way and was using the last few minutes openly detest the impending doom. The Umbitch's office was at its original place (unfortunately), with all that pink frill torture in its full glory.

Edward went in with his usual frown and glare. However, Umbridge looked at him with a different gaze. It was frankly, disturbing.

"Mr. Elric, unfortunately, our detention sessions together can no longer continue," the toad said, a failure attempt to be dramatic.

"Why?" "What?" came from both Harry and Ed's mouths simultaneously.

"Mr. Potter, you may begin writing your lines, not poking into others businesses." Umbridge smiled (bleargh).

"Professor, you see I'm on the Quidditch team and I was just wondering if I could skip detention on Friday to go to the tryouts. I'll make up on another day." Ed could see Harry being a tinge, slight hopeful.

"Oh no, no." Harry's face fell. "You will come to detention on Friday. It's a punishment for spreading those nasty, attention-seeking stories." The toad was definitely enjoying that moment.

Harry grumbled for a moment before plopping his bag onto the ground and sitting down.

Umbridge's attention switched to the blonde. "I have received word of your _situation_ from your father."

Ed was forced to bite his lower lip to prevent an outburst.

"It appears you were not in the perfect health."

A growl escaped his lips but Umbridge continued, unhearing.

"He told me of your tragic accident recently, leading your frail body. And you are in denial and thus your rebellious behavior in school," she was saying this with deliberation. Ed felt more pissed off. He hated pity, but_ fake_ pity was making his blood boil even more.

He twitched, clearly on his last nerve. "That ba…man…" He barely caught more swearing before they shot out of his mouth.

"Tut tut not another word. Your detentions will be done with Professor Snape who has so graciously volunteered. It will be less demanding and strenuous for that fragile body, won't it? Now, hurry along." Umbridge shooed him out, that smile and gaze unchanging and getting more annoying.

It took almost all of his mental strength to stop Ed from shoving a fist into Umbridge's face.

He made quite an exit though, slamming the door so hard that vibrations could be heard from the other side of the castle. The sound was loud and angry, clearly heard. Hohenheim from wherever he started getting nervous.

* * *

Snape's detention went pretty well, considering the fact that they wanted to make similar appointments. A touch of luck, you could say. Well, obviously for Ed, it wasn't. He got a lot of research done as his 'alchemy lesson' with Snape didn't last too long. Edward's anger and frustration was very, very prominent, like a volcano minutes away from exploding. The heat and choking I-want-to-murder-someone aura could be felt from five miles away.

The only thing that pleased Ed was that his research just achieved a new height. It calmed him down for he had a huge clue to what he was looking for (maimed soul). The only thing was that there was nothing solid from the books in the school's library. Edward immediately had the hunch that someone had deliberately hid the books away, so that not even the restricted section had anything. It was to protect the other, normal students, of course. What Ed was playing with was clearly too dark for their innocent minds.

But he knew what he needed to search for. And he knew where he could get the information from.

Ed spotted a slightly glowing figure about to walk into a wall. "Nick?" Ed said. His golden eyes were flashing with revived life and burning with determination.

Sir Nicholas popped out from the wall; his body was halfway through, wondering who called. "Ah, Edward. What brings you out so late?"

"Detention." Ed half-mumbled. Remembering the toad, he felt a slight irritation coming back.

Nick chuckled and floated towards the boy. "Oh I remember I was quite a rascal when I was…"

Ed cut him off, not wanting to hear another flashback from the ancient ghost. "I found a lead. And I need you and your ghost friends to help me out."

"What could be so difficult for _the_ Edward Elric to seek the help of the dead?" Nick teased.

"I finished the book. And I have a hunch, just that it's really Dark magic," the prodigy alchemist said, smirking.

"There is no doubt of your intelligence, Edward," Nick said, his grin getting wider. "No surprise you figured it out already." The ghost's face was still grinning, but his eyes weren't. Those non-solid eyes were heavy, darker.

Ed noticed. But he grinned, pretending to have not. "So could you call your ghost friends already?"

"We'll meet in the usual place." Nick hesitated for a nanosecond before nodding, disappearing into the wall.

Ed ran a hand through his golden bangs before walking off at a slow speed.

_Why is he sad? I found something; I took another step towards my goal. _

One step closer to his grave.

_Even so, he shouldn't be sad._

* * *

It was awkward. Horribly, terribly awkward. There was silence in the dark bathroom. It would be totally black, if not for the slight luminance of the twenty-seven ghosts gathered. Edward raised his right hand to scratch his head. Three ghosts flinched and another ducked into a toilet cubicle.

_This is weird…_ Ed thought. He was in a bathroom, filled with the dead who mostly feared him and just about to request a favor.

"So…" Ed muttered to Nick, his golden eyes scanned the room. There was a ghost in chains, a depressing looking ghost, Professor Binns, a ghost dressed as a knight and many more, including Peeves the poltergeist. The more important thing was that some of them were shaking in their shoes while others looked like they were about to piss in their pants.

Nicholas patted him on the shoulder. "My fellow dead people," he said in a loud, clear voice. "Lord Edward Elric here has requested for your assistance."

"_Lord_?" Ed hissed. Nick merely winked.

"Do not fret, ghosts of Hogwarts," Nick continued. "Edward here will not eat you under any circumstances. He is human in the inside and has ensured me that he will not harm a single soul."

At first were strange looks and some ghosts relaxed. Not all, but it's a start.

"Erm…" Ed began. "Firstly, Truth," there was a dramatic intake of breath. "Told me to look for a 'maimed soul'. I have recently found out that the infamous Killing Curse causes 'soul instability'. The Avada Kedavra takes the life of the person but at the same time takes a part of the murderer. Equivalent exchange, maybe. The curse rips the soul of the killer apart. The ripped part will die instantly and the rest of the soul will slowly be torn apart and the murderer will become insane." Ed took a breath, carefully observing for reactions among the ghosts. Some of them looked intrigued, some shocked, some merely waiting with a look of indifference.

"So, Lord Elric," the knight looking ghost said, his voice rumbled. "How are you going to collect something that will disappear?"

_What's with the 'Lord'?_ Ed wondered. "Yeah, I was getting to that. One, I could find a way to get a murderer's soul before it dies. But I don't think Truth would want something like that. It's too…common." Ed knew Truth sought 'entertainment' and a petty killer's soul wouldn't be satisfying for the sadist. Truth wanted to torment Ed, make the game more difficult. Ed realized that he had paused again. "So, I'm thinking that there is a way to spilt the soul, yet the pieces are still alive. Like a container of some sorts. It's a theory, but I'm guessing the facts cannot be found within the students' reach. So could you guys help me research that?" Ed asked, wondering if he sounded polite.

The surrounding ghosts nodded.

Sir Nicholas beamed but the look in his eyes barely faded as he dismissed the gathering of the dead. Edward heaved a sigh of relief.

"So, Nick, what's with the 'Lord' thing?"

"Ah, Edward. We ghosts have two superiors we must treat with upmost respect. One is the Truth, second are the Homunculi."

"Oh, I see." He yawned. "I'm going to bed."

"Have a good night, _Lord_ Elric," Nick teased.

Ed scrowled. "Don't call me that," he muttered. "And don't look at me like that."

* * *

'Look at you like what?' 'Like I'm already dead.' 'But you're already digging your own grave.'

Making his way to the Gryffindor common room and feeling slightly at ease. It was almost curfew. The night seemed warmer than usual, which put him in a slightly good mood. Unfortunately, that was spoilt when he saw a certain Alchemy Professor standing by the Fat Lady portrait.

Seems like Ed's positive moments are being constantly ruined.

His mind immediately filled with thoughts of murder. He didn't like it. People were always throwing him looks he detested. And Hohenheim might have made it worse. Ed erupted immediately after seen his face.

He stormed over and threw back his arm. A punch was delivered across.

Feeling a whole lot better, Edward said nothing, approaching the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. He quickly gave the password and wanted to waltz in pretending no one was there. Hohenheim of Light grabbed his hand to prevent him from entering. His other hand was nursing a broken nose.

Edward snatched his hand away from the grip like he was burnt.

"Get out of here, bastard," Edward growled, not wanting to wake any students.

His father reached for his shoulder, managing to hold it before Ed shook the grip away.

"I never asked you to do anything! I don't need or want your help, Hohenheim!" Ed half-yelled. "It's not like I'm already dead! Not like you would care, bastard, but leave me alone!"

"Ed…" Hohenheim sighed. "I was worried."

A hand was still on his hurting nose. Ed frowned harder, staring at that hand, noticing its slight trembles.

"My life or death is none of your business anymore," he said. Ed's eyes flickered away from his father's face and he turned to enter the Gryffindor common room.

Hohenheim caught his arm again. "I never got the chance to apologize."

Edward snorted. However, he hesitated for a moment before shaking the hand away. "I don't give a damn."

His father sighed and reached for his son's hand for the third time. "It's not only that, Edward." Hohenheim managed to catch the Ed's golden gaze.

"Get on with this shit," he muttered. _After all, you apologize and everything remains the same. Or it just repeats like a cycle. _

Hohenheim let go of his nose, barely wincing. "Your right arm again, Ed? It's a matter of time before my nose gets crooked like Albus's," he groaned.

Edward walked in a fast pace, a corridor away from the portrait hole, unhearing, indifferent. His stride was the same, angry and frustrated footsteps. Confused, hurt footsteps.

"I thought you had run out of time," Hohenheim murmured, relief and desperation heard in his tired voice. Edward stopped.

"Truth won't let me go this soon," Ed said, hoping that would clear up the conversation.

"It's not that, Ed. It's the Philosopher's stone."

"That's why you told the toad bitch?" Ed asked stiffly. His left leg shifted, as if about to kick someone. But that turned into shuffled footsteps.

"The stone was once part of me so I can feel it. You'll be killing yourself in this rate."

"I would never use it. I promised Al I wouldn't." He scoffed. "You don't have to be worry about that. I'll be in my grave soon."

Hohenheim clearly tensed at that. He felt like his heart was ripped in two.

Ed also felt a tinge of guilt.

"The stone is made of souls, life forces, to go against the law of equivalent exchange. Those unequal mass transmutations you did before wasn't done by the Philosopher's stone," Hohenheim explained, rubbing the back of his head.

Ed remembered the encounter with the dementor. "Then what?" he asked.

"Your resentment somehow created a block in that energy pathway. Therefore the Philosopher's stone in you made from the billions of souls are untouched." He wanted to look his son in the eye, but he was finding it rather difficult.

"How?" Edward was too avoiding his gaze. There was muffled sadness with every moment that passed.

"You were using your own 'philosopher's stone' to create those 'miracles'."

Ed took a moment to process the information.

"So I'm using my own life force to power the unequal transmutations." Ed swallowed, his face hardened. "Good."

He was smacked in the head. "This is not good, Ed!" Hohenheim exclaimed. "This is your life we're talking about!"

"What the hell was that about?" Ed yelled. "At least I'm not using their lives!"

"You don't get it, do you?" Hohenheim was close to yelling, but with much control, he forced himself to remain calm. "A normal human wouldn't have so much life force to constantly perform large scale transmutation. Especially when they are not biological transmutations; it takes up a part of your life span."

Edward fell silent. He was trembling ever so slightly. "The bastard is forcing me to use the stone."

"Ed…" There was a slight pleading tone.

He was shaking now. "I'd never…I would never do it…Who knows who's trapped inside this wretched body? And Al…"

"Edward…stop…" Hohenheim was begging.

They boy's eyes flashed. "What makes you think I can go back now?"It seemed like a innocent question. Hohenheim wanted to speak but he was cut off. "I just have to maintain the block right?"

The father forced his voice to harden and lose the emotion. "But at the brink of death, would you be strong enough?"

Edward nodded. His golden eyes held a strange darkness.

"What about Alphonse?"

"I'll do something."

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"I made a promise."

Hohenheim stared his son who was looking at his feet. Ed looked like a child who made a mistake. A child filled with innocent guilt. But his son was shivering in a warm night, glassy golden orbs that were ice cold.

He didn't stop shivering.

Hohenheim wanted to do something. Anything. a simple hug, a gesture of comfort. But once his fingers brushed the shoulder of Ed, the boy would jerk, flinch like physical contact hurt.

There was a choked whisper, almost inaudible.

"I would rather die…than use the life of another…"

And those words were what that was truly painful.

* * *

Harry was nursing an aching hand, muttering curses under his breath as he made his way to the Gryffindor Tower. Part of his mind was focused on the overwhelming pain. Another part of curious, suspicious of a certain Edward Elric.

He felt sort of jealous. Harry would take detention with Snape rather than getting his hand cut up.

Just as he turned, he heard mutterings from the long corridor in front of him. Inaudible words. But the pain in the atmosphere could be clearly felt.

Harry took a few steps towards the edge of a broom closet, pressing his back to the wooden door and hiding in the dent. The pain of his hand was forgotten.

A yell made him jump.

* * *

Ed snapped out of his trance, though his eyes still looked glazed.

"I'm sorry."

He did say it in the end. Sincerity was deeply etched in the words. But they were just _words_. Utterly meaningless.

"For what?" Ed asked. "Leaving me and Al? Letting Mom die? Vanishing off the face of the earth?"

"Yes…" Regret. Another word. Guilt. Another word. "And for leaving you in Germany."

"I don't care about that," Edward said, his voice strangled.

"I had my reasons…" Hohenheim began.

"WELL I DON'T CARE!" Ed raised his voice considerably, shouting. "I did the same, didn't I? You left me a note and disappeared. I gave you another note and a pool of dried blood in your room."

"Edward…"

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE THE GUTS TO TELL ME TO MY FACE! YOU JUST WALKED OUT LIKE YOU DID WITH MOM!"

"MOM DIED! AND GUESS WHAT, I DYING TOO!"

He could see the door closing, the shadow shrinking into nothing. He could see his mother's smiling face. He could hear her dying words. He could feel her hand releasing his.

"Next time you want to leave someone's life like that, don't bother coming back."

Its equivalent exchange, isn't it?

Leaving without saying goodbye is telling a person not to follow.

There wasn't a choice.

Never, ever, given a choice.

* * *

Mom was different. She knew she couldn't come along. She wanted to wait. She wanted to wait for him to come home. And she waited till her last breath.

And what about him?

Edward had lurked around the corridors for an hour or so. When he made it back to the Gryffindor Tower, he didn't have the strength to climb up the stairs to the dormitories. Anyway all that waited in that bed were nightmares. Ed curled up on an armchair in the common room, watching the Gryffindor fire dance.

He closed his eyes tightly.

Ed had always been in life threatening situations. He knew he had to risk his life, but never had the time to actually think about that.

But he thought of death now.

He considered it.

He wondered how it felt.

He opened his eyes to admire the flickering flames of the fire and curled into a tighter ball. He squeezed his tired eyes shut.

…...

I…...

I…don't…...

Want…to…...

…to…die...

…...

It is said that even the bravest heroes are afraid of death. It is said that monsters should die alone.

Reminders. They lodge themselves into the pits of his stomach. The aching agony and pain, yet the desire and longing. Reminders. He would rather do without them. but it isn't possible to let go.

Why can't you just let go?

It would cause your insides to rot.

Edward refused to cry. He opened his eyes again. the fire flickered. Flames danced, a warm orange. So warm, so much better than the cold bed. The fire reminded him of his promise, the one last string that tied his very existence. The fire reminded him of sacrifice, what he much give, what exactly is equivalent exchange.

_If you move forward for their sakes, aren't you just looking back? You walk with your head turned; it's only a matter of time before you crash into something._

The words haunted him.

_Don't want to die._

And the past held onto him with an iron grip. Pale faces, lifeless eyes, bloodless fingers.

Then, forget?

His eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Darkness was about to claim him as he felt the dissolving of that never-ending ache. He didn't know if he could wake up.

_No, don't forget._

Ed thought he could open his eyes. But there was only darkness and he tried lifting his hands to feel his surroundings, like a lost child in the dark.

_Winry?_ His voice came out light and his fingers felt like lead.

_No, don't forget. Just hold them close._

_Winry…_ He was trying to reach out.

_And remember to come home._

* * *

Outside the dream, the fire was burning intensely in a gentle manner. The fingers of the flames wrapped together, like a silent prayer.

And a tear escaped from his closed eye.

Harry was feeling very disturbed. He somehow managed to hear a conversation, find some bits of information about his enigma friend and avoid getting caught altogether. He crushed a slip of parchment in his hand.

"Sirius said to meet at the fire at one," he said.

"Yeah, but there's someone there!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione hushed him abruptly. "It's only Ed! And keep your voice down; he's asleep!"

The fire flickered and there was empty silence.

"He's crying…" she then said, barely a whisper. "What could he be dreaming about?"

* * *

**Hello**

**This is such a long chappie! Hope you like it! Very depressing though… Well, something good for you to know is that after 10 long chapters of heartache and tragedy, the next chapter will be on healing. **

**Okay, so here's the overview.**

**The timeline's not totally following the book. I tweaked it a little. There're some gaps in between but this whole chapter is occurring in a single day. **

**I also tried lifting the mood with humor for the ghost gathering part. But I couldn't forget that it's not a total good thing that he's getting clues. It means he's closer to saving his brother, but also closer to his death.**

**So the Hohenheim thing was the total depressing part. I made Hoho so mean, leaving Ed like that… But it's true, he does have some valid reasons (revealed in later chapters). **

**Harry knows! There's a time gap here, so he didn't get caught and only heard the yelling part at the end. He didn't tell anyone yet either. **

**Also, I tried a little comfort by adding Winry's voice. Make Ed feel more at ease. Please give me feedback on this.**

**WOW! Hundred reviews! Thank you so much! I'm extending my sincerest thanks to all who reviewed, favourited and alerted me! Thank you for your support! I hope to receive more in the future! Once again, THANKS!**

**Review lots :) Thanks again**

**ssapphireangel**


	11. For Forgiveness

**Chapter 10 For Forgiveness**

"Sirius!" Harry said, in a hushed voice.

The dark messy head of his godfather sat in the fire, grinning.

"Hi. How're things?" he asked before Hermione gave him a hurried shush.

"Edward's sleeping by the fire," she whispered.

The grinning face turned into a frown. "That little twit! It's payback, I tell you! He made me and Moony lug five full boxes of damn papers all the way to headquarters! And he only took one box to Hogwarts! He's definitely trying to pull something on me, you hear!"

Harry chuckled. "You could have used magic."

"We did. But the point was that four fifth of our efforts were wasted. The git! Next time he sets foot in my house, I'll…" Sirius grumbled but was cut off by a glare from Hermione.

"There have been awfully weird things happening around Ed," she said quietly.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, puzzled.

"He won't transfigure, even though he does other spells. Like the Hogwarts ghosts have been avoiding him like he's some pest. But he spends a lot of time with Nearly Headless Nick and Moaning Myrtle," Hermione blurted out.

Sirius sighed. "The Order did do a background check on Elric. But there's nothing for the previous twenty years. Not Muggle or Wizard, not in America or Europe. Hell we even checked Asia. There's just no trace of him. It's like he never existed."

There was a small gasp. "Myrtle said that Ed's a homunculus." The sentence sounded like a squeak.

"Those extremely dark creatures?"

"Yes. But hardly any information is documented on them. And they disappeared like a century ago." Hermione didn't know why she was defending a potential threat. It could cost Harry's life, with Voldemort after him and all. But she felt the need to prove that somehow Ed could be a friend. After all, the way he curled up in the maroon armchair was so adorable. With his chin tucked in and golden hair poking his cheek, he looked as innocent as a child. If only there wasn't that single tear, the scene wouldn't be filled with such loneliness.

"Could you check is he's related to Professor Hohenheim?"

Sirius frowned look changed to anger. "That coward and utter bastard who walked out of the Order?" He cursed under his breath before giving a sheepish look to the trio currently watching his reaction. Reluctantly, he muttered, "I'll do a second check on that shrimp." Sirius than gave a weird look, like he was having some internal conflict. "And…Molly…wanted to know how he's doing in school."

"He's a jerk," Ron blurted out. "He hardly talks to anyone. And when he does, it takes five minutes before he starts insulting the other person."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Ed's rather introverted. He keeps to himself and has a rather smart mouth, to both teachers and students. His grades are excellent…"

"You're only saying that cause you like him, like every other girl here," Ron grumbled. "Not that there's any chance that grumpy pants would go out with a girl."

Sirius chuckled. "All right. Molly tells you guys to stay out of trouble and to get enough food and rest, especially the brat. She's showing favoritism, I tell you."

The flames flickered. The head melted away, leaving three tired and curious students staring at it.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to regulate his breathing. Those people did not notice that he woke up when someone said the taboo word 'shrimp'. He didn't catch most parts of the conversation, only the fact that girls thought he was hot and a couple of insults. But he somehow felt satisfied with what he heard. Sure, they were suspicious. Sure, they didn't like him much. But he went back to sleep, relieved and at ease, because he knew there was someone who cared.

* * *

From Germany in Europe, Edward Elric was just Edward Elric. Then he changed on that night, two days after his bastard of a father vanished. That night, Edward Elric died. He travelled to the United States, moving from the city of Seattle. To Cambridge, Oxford and any of the Ivy League Collages he got in to. He became many people by changing his name every few years, created a novel's worth of stories and lies about his life. Ed felt like some sort of vampire, unchanging cold heartless immortal. Not allowed to settle for a full seventeen years.

Then he decided to take back his name.

Then he came to England and into this mess.

Edward felt his eyes sting, but they were glued onto a random word in the book. "I'm getting old…"he groaned inwardly, dropping the book onto the table.

He had to admit, the Hogwarts library was certainly impressive.

But he felt like knocking himself unconscious with the book.

Ed got up, taking the book with him and dragged himself to the shelves.

"…Defense Against the Dark Arts…teaching…"

He felt curious and began eavesdropping. Well, he was standing by the shelf right behind a certain Golden Trio. Can't help not hearing anything.

"Yeah, but I doubt anyone would want to be taught by me. I'm a nutter, remember?"

"I think you might be surprised how many people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say," Hemione then hesitated a little. "Ed's backtalk with Professor Umbridge got some people thinking."

Edward grunted.

"You know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmead weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"

_I don't care. I absolutely don't care._

_Yeah, keep telling yourself that._

_I don't give a damn about getting illegal DADA lessons!_

_Oh, you know you want to._

_There's no point! Anyway, if we do get caught, my research would be ruined by the toad!_

_Supposedly the great Edward Elric's getting soft and wanting to get involved in school affairs?_

_I am not! I don't need or want anyone. So I definitely, do not f***ing need another obstacle to my research! _

_Then, tell me again, why are we here?_

Edward finally decided to stop arguing with himself and pushed the door open to the dirty bar of Hogsmeade, the Hog's Head (seriously, what's with wizards and their affinity with pigs?).

There seemed to be a wave of silence as he strode in.

All eyes bored at him. The silence dragged dramatically. Edward twitched and made a sound with his throat. He then walked over to the dingy barman and came back to the group with a butterbeer. He drank with his gaze on the faces of the students.

Most girls were blushing. Ron looked nervous. Then there were whispers.

"_Why is that git here?"_

"_The midget's clever enough! He doesn't need extra DADA lessons!"_

The butterbeer bottle was slammed onto the table in front of him. "Who're calling shorter than an ant you can crush with your foot?" he snarled, glaring fiercely at the fourth year Gryffindor who had flinched violently.

There seemed to be movement and forming protests in the group.

"Hey!" Hermione interjected, waving her hands and raising her voice to calm them down. "We're here to see if you're okay with taking lessons from Harry! And it doesn't matter who as long as they're willing to learn!"

Ed was pissed with himself, hating that someone was talking for him. "I can speak for myself, thank you, Hermione," he said. His voice wasn't shaking with anger. It was just cold, like a swipe of ice. "I haven't been here long. I don't damn know much about what Harry did or about that dumb lord who's risen from the dead." There was a gasp from the crowd which he ignored. "And heck," he snorted. "I don't even care. I'm here to give him a chance." Ed jerked a finger at Harry.

Harry seemed to gain confidence when he heard Ed said that.

"Look guys, I may have done all those things you said by this isn't about OWLs and Voldemort anymore," he paused, expecting some sort of reaction. But the crowd was listening intently. "It's outrageous that the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells. And they have this mad idea that Dumbledore could use students as some kind of army against the Ministry. No matter what, there's always danger around and we should be able to defend ourselves."

"They shouldn't deny us the right to learn how to protect ourselves," Hermione said.

There were muttered agreements.

Hermione took a deep breath and beamed. "So, when shall we schedule the lessons?"

The list was passed. Edward smirked slightly. He knew the parchment was jinxed to prevent anyone from shooting their mouths. Hermione was clever and he could easily see her as some strategist in the military. There were many tactics he learnt from the military. Sabotages, strategic planning and _spies_.

Ed glanced at the people in the bar. Only the truly strange or insane would come to this pigsty.

He signed the list and strode out of the smelly bar.

* * *

_Geez, teach, you can be so uptight! Loosen up! No wonder everyone gets on your nerves. You'll never have friends this way! The students and teachers and…_

_Shaddup. I can manage my own life._

_Teach, you gotta find a way to de-stress. It's not healthy, you know. Too much pressure could cause you to have a stroke. Or heart disease. You'll die early._

_Don't curse me, Alfrons! _

_What are you gonna do, give me a detention? Sigh… There're a lot of things you can do to lighten up. A simple walk in the park, playing video games, oh I know, music!_

The boy suddenly took his flesh hand, inspecting the fingers under the thick gloves.

_What now?_

_You could play the piano, teach._

Ed didn't want to return to that hellhole of a castle. He swore that place practically saps the life out of him. He always felt tired and his concentration level had dropped quite a bit. The school building itself just had some grudge against him.

Edward sighed. He was sitting on a random bench away from the noise from the village. It was beautiful in the snow. And it brought back memories of his times at the university for some reason. Ed let the cold seep into his skin in a soothing manner. He was grateful that Snape fixed his automail and his ports never ached anymore.

_Yes, teach. The piano!_

_What? I don't have the time for such activities, Alfons!_

His brother lookalike pouted.

_Such a pity, teach. You have the perfect fingers. Just like a girl._

_Detention, Alfons Heiderich!_

"Al…" Ed muttered. He raised a gloved hand to his face and rubbed his sleeve across his eyes as if he was wiping away tears. His automail hand was stuck in his pocket.

"Edward?"

He turned to see Harry behind him. Grunting as acknowledgement he turned and relaxed, squinting at the sky that was brightly white.

"I wanted to say thanks," Harry said. "For what you said."

"I don't get why my words have an effect on people," he commented casually.

"Erm… Does that mean you accept me as a friend?" Harry asked hopefully.

Ed snorted as a reply. "I agreed to your defense lessons only to get back at the toad b***h. Guess this is a civil way to punch her in the face for what she said in that detention," he said, half looking at Harry.

He looked hesitant. He was worried that his words would destroy the newfound somewhat friendship with him and Ed.

"I know you want to ask." Ed was looking him in the eye seriously. "About my 'fragile body', that is." There was a hint of disgust as Ed looked away again, focusing on nothing in particular.

Both hands were out of his pockets.

"So are you going to tell me?" Harry asked. He was expecting a definite refusal and Ed would go back to ignoring him again.

The blonde scratched his head.

"Why don't we make a deal then? Equivalent exchange." Ed smirked, golden eyes flashing. "I tell you about my 'condition' and you tell me about your previous 'adventures'." He was curious, truthfully. "I heard a dragon was involved."

Harry smiled and stuck out his hand. "Deal."

He shook the gloved hand, realizing how rock hard it felt.

How are you gonna lie your way out of this one, Edward Elric?

You have already made up over a hundred different stories for all the places you go. And also forgeries too many to count. You have been lying half your life now.

Surely one more lie wouldn't hurt?

Ed mentally cursed Equivalent Exchange. But he only promised to confess about his physical body's state. He didn't say anything about spilling _how_ it became this way. He didn't have to tell the truth. He didn't need to blurt out his life story. Harry did not need to know the tragedy and horror that led up to this very day.

He sighed as Harry finished his story with the revelation of Mad-eye Moody getting locked up in a trunk and Barty Crouch Junior impersonating him.

Edward was jealous. Harry Potter, boy who lived, whose head was wanted by the worst Dark Wizard since who-knows-when, only saw the death of one person. And it wasn't even bloody, but instant, like a hit in the head.

But he was relieved. At least, everything wasn't as bad as he expected.

So, let the lying begin?

"There was a war after Mom died," Ed began slowly, choosing his words carefully. "There was this madman who wanted all the power there is to create a new empire in my country. The bastard corrupted the central military of my country and then ordered a massacre of a whole race. A few years later he tried to create a rebellion in a city by getting the people to believe in false sayings by its prophet. There was craziness everywhere." He took a breath, lightly biting his tongue. Covering the true ugliness of the facts with his sugar coated version left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I was a researcher then and my brother and I happened to find out. And we told a man named Roy Mustang who can be a total asshole at times and he gathered the military groups around the country to fight back. It was a full force rebellion. And…" Ed cut himself off. Every story has to have an ending. A good one, a bad one, doesn't matter, it just can't be a cliffhanger. But what?

The real story was about his search for a legend. His country and its corrupt military. And a man that wanted to become God.

And the Philosopher's stone. What a load of bull crap! In his world, it was made from human souls. In this world, it wasn't even a true stone!

"So what happened?" Harry asked, seeing that Ed was silent was a long while.

"I guess you could say we lost." Edward put his hands on the back of his neck and watched grey clouds shielding the white light from the sky. "My brother died. Who-knows-what happened to Mustang." He sighed with a depressed sound. "Well, that's reality. The good guys don't win every time."

"What happened to you?" Harry prompted again.

What's wrong, Edward Elric? That's hardly any lie! It's not the truth, but what's wrong, Edward Elric, can't lie anymore?

"I guess you could say I was in the front lines of the last battle. It's a miracle I survived and am here talking to you now." Ed grunted and scratched his chin. Should he tell?

"You probably had extensive injuries, right, Ed?" Harry said, as if telling Ed that he could take whatever mutilation Ed had.

Cannot lie anymore.

Ed sucked in a breath.

Don't know what trust is anymore.

"I lost two limbs and had my insides blown out," Ed said quickly. He then turned away.

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

Don't look at it. Don't look at the pity. Can't stand that kind of eyes.

"I never thought that…" There was a gulp. "So, you're…"

"It's war, Harry."

"But you look pretty normal to me." Harry wanted to mentally slap himself. He didn't know what to say; therefore whatever that came from his mouth was nonsense.

Ed wanted to laugh. He turned to face Harry. In those green eyes, there was a sense of awkwardness, hesitation. He also dictated a drop in self esteem. The boy thinks the whole Voldemort thing was his burden to bear, doesn't he? He's worried, confused and due to his highly depressing story, he was even more doubtful than before.

Edward was surprised at that reaction. But glad, or the more. Yes, all the more relived.

"You don't annoy me as much anymore," he said, leaning back onto the bench as the sky dimmed and black birds flew by. "Don't worry. I have prostatic limbs. And a whole lot of tubes stuck in me and pills to help digestion. I not a complete freak, thank you very much."

There was silence from Harry. Ed noticed the constant biting of lip. The Chosen One wasn't even looking at him. He didn't seem like some savior; only a confused teenager.

"Harry," Ed said sharply, drawing back the black haired boy's attention. "Because I lost a battle once means that you should try even harder to win this upcoming war, Brat-Who-Lived," Ed said. "Listen. You better not let what happened with me happen again."

* * *

The hellhole of a school doesn't seem so torturous anymore. Edward wondered why. After spending the entire afternoon out and in the cold, the Gryffindor felt all the more toasty warm. It was nearly midnight. Ed drew himself into a tight ball in the comfy armchair which had lately turned into his bed.

_I trusted him, didn't I?_

He didn't realize himself smiling. For that moment, he felt peaceful. And not lonely. Edward had let his hair down, golden locks gathering on his shoulders. And his thick gloves were off, flesh hand warmed by the flickering orange flames of the fire.

_I almost forgot what trust is._

There was this comfort he didn't feel since he Alfrons left. Edward almost didn't want to sleep. Sleep brought nightmares which would ruin the feeling.

_Maybe I need to de-stress first._

Ed stretched his hands in front of him and closed his eyes. Imagining the keys of a grand piano in front of him, he let his hands trail in the air, remembering the music.

And the last chord thrummed in his brain.

Ed took a breath and uncurled in the armchair. His eyes darted around the room, without exhaustion. He liked the deep red of the walls, red carpets trimmed with golden and bits of warm brown within the room. Red, like the coat he used to wear in Amestris. He still had it, deep inside his trunk. Red, the color of blood. Spilt blood, a sense of death. Yet blood was the life in the veins and the heart. It was a contradiction. But a fact. And the world would be wrong without it.

Perhaps he liked contrasting elements.

Edward got out of his chair.

"You waiting for someone?" he asked out loud.

Harry, Ron and Hermione came into the room from the dormitories, looking rather nervous. Well, Hermione looked a little dazed, being the first girl to see Ed with his hair down.

Ed slumped back into the armchair.

As no one was saying anything, he decided to get to the point that he being there wasn't a problem. He knew the fire conversations with bastard-who-called-him-shrimp. "Hmm if I punched his floating flame head, would he feel it?" he said, glaring at the fire.

The untidy dark head of Sirius was sitting in the fire again.

"Okay, midget, how did you find out?"

"Who are you calling short?" Ed almost yelled.

"Hi Sirius," Hermione cut in before a loud argument could commence.

"So how're things?" Sirius asked, though still glaring at Edward.

"Not good," Harry said. "The Ministry's forced through another decree."

"Let me guess, prevents you from having secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?"

There was a short pause.

"How did you know about that?"Harry demanded.

"A spy? Like someone from the Order dressing as a hairy old woman?" Ed said.

There was another short pause.

"How did you know, shrimp?" Sirius demanded.

"I'M NOT SHORT!" Ed got up. "It was an obvious change of gender!" Ed said, smirking. "Only weirdos like you would do something like that!"

"Hey! It wasn't me! It's Mundungus who was crossdressing!"

"Keep telling yourself that."

"You little git! You're…"

"Keep you voices down!" Hermione hushed, giving the two a glare. "Ed, sit down!" He did so grumbling. "So, Sirius, what do you think of the Defense group?"

Sirius smirked. "Even though Molly thinks its risky and absolutely not permitted, I think it's an excellent idea!"

"Really?"

Ed snorted.

"Of course! Your father and I would never lay down and take orders from an old hag like Umbridge!" Sirius said. "And we know that there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!"

Ed snorted again.

"And you can hex that midget for me!"

"Want me to poke your eye out, Black?" Ed growled, getting up again.

Sirius gave a mocking laugh as Hermione shot dagger glares again.

"I heard Hohenheim is teaching in the school," Sirius said out of the blue, eyeing Edward suspiciously. "Donno what Dumbledore's thinking."

"What's wrong with Professor Hohenheim?" Ron asked.

"He used to be part of the Order when Voldemort was first at large. Remembered he was quite reluctant to join. And when he did, it was for his own reason," Sirius spat. "He only joined the Order when he made a deal with Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

"The guy who made the Philosopher's stone?" Harry said.

"Yeah. Turns out the bastard wanted Flamel to give him a portion of the Elixir of Life."

Ed's golden eyes widened.

"The guy was only after immortality! That git!" Ron said.

Sirius nodded. "Now that the Philosopher's stone's gone, he completely cut ties with the Order." Sirius turned to Harry, seriously. "Be careful of that man, Harry. He may be working for Voldemort. Just as long as he gets some sort of perk, he'll join, I tell you."

Harry nodded. Sirius turned to Ed.

"What's wrong, Elric?"

Edward was looking away, staring at the deep red hearthrug.

Hohenheim must have a reason. He's a bastard but he wouldn't just… I don't care. I don't give a damn about that bastard.

"You know Hohenheim, Elric?"

Ed was still in thought. His face was emotionless, eyes glazed. "He's nothing to me."

"That's alright. He didn't really mention about a son in his days in the Order anyway."

Ed's eyes shot at him. "I do not know a damn thing about that bastard!" he snarled. "I don't f***ing care about him either!"

Sirius smirked. He was about to open his mouth to speak when his face suddenly tensed. Then he turned sideways and vanished. And in its place was a stubby, short-fingered hand, groping as though to catch hold of something.

After ten minutes of shock, Ed was sitting on the armchair again, an air of indifference around him.

"Is it true, Ed?" Hermione asked after a while of silence. "Is Professor Hohenheim your father?"

Ed took a moment to answer. "Not anymore." His voice was heavy and laden with sadness and disappointment.

"Are you an alchemist then?" she asked. She sounded scared for some reason.

Ed sighed. "Remember what I told you, Harry?" Harry nodded. Edward raised his metal hand, watching the flames reflect on its shiny surface. "That I was in the front lines of the war. That's because being an alchemist, you can discover many things yet make many mistakes. And whatever you find may just be..." He made a weird sound with is throat. "Let's just say the truth isn't so pretty."

* * *

**Hi**

**I think I made it a habit to update a day late. But I have a reason! I planned on making this chappie extra long but then I decided to cut a bit off and place it in the next chappie. So in the end I used some time on working on stuff you won't see for another month…*braces for flying hurtful objects***

**Don't know whether people actually bother to read ANs… I mean, sometimes even I don't…**

**In the first Gryffindor fire scene, 'someone who cared' refers to Mrs. Weasley. Her care may be a form of pity for Ed, but mostly it's motherly love. And Ed feels (and needs) it… And Hohenheim is still a bastard, even to the Order. But of course, there's always a reason and in the end we'll love him again. **

**I think I have successfully created a chapter without too much angst (I hope). I'm also writing some form of humor, don't know if it's working…hahaha**

**Also, I have this weird scene in my mind. Can you imagine Ed doing the 'che' thing like Kanda from Man? Hahaha…that was so random…**

**Sirius was being sort of mean to Ed. But he wants to know about his relation with Hohenheim and that's the easiest way to get it. The Golden Trio find out a bit about Edo now. And he was half lying partially.**

**Okay, this chapter's focusing on Ed trying to open up and his doubts on that. **

**Please review! Thanks so much for all your patience and reviews! I don't own FMA or HP (keep forgetting to put that).**

**ssapphireangel**


	12. Foolish Paradise

**Chapter 11 Foolish Paradise **

_Alchemists are actually scientists. But Wizards always thought that their art was wandless magic. That's what they're known for. And because of that, it's also a fact that their bodies itself is the wand. In harsher terms, they are human weapons._

Hermione remembered herself explaining to Ron and Harry.

She felt guilty. Edward was looking better than usual, sitting by the fire with a look of warmth and tranquility. And he fell asleep with more worries and more bad memories to plague his dreams. She could almost see his scrunched up and pained face. Hermione felt bad for ending his night as such.

Then as she was hurrying down the hallway to her next class, she saw Ed. Edward, standing in front of a door by a particular classroom. He studied the heavy wooden door for a few minutes before turning and walking away. She couldn't see the expression on his face.

It was the alchemy classroom.

Hermione found herself chasing after the blonde, calling out.

"Ed, do you believe that Professor Hohenheim would be the person Sirius describes?" she blurted out when she caught him.

Edward's eyes widened in shock. There was a calculative look in his eyes before he answered, hesitant.

"He may the hugest bastard in the world…" Ed paused. "But he's not that kind of greedy person."

_Alchemists were powerful. Their art had to be wiped out because the darkest secrets were hidden deep within the 'magic'. They could create the greatest things that no one ever dreamt of creating. An example is the Philosopher's stone. Such miracles are used for one's benefit, whether good or evil. _

"Are you going to talk to him?" Hermione asked.

Edward didn't answer. His footsteps quickened, as if running away from something.

"He's still your father, you should…"

She was cut off with a snarl. "That f***ing bastard is not my father!"

_One of the greatest creations of alchemy is the homunculi. At first, they were results of experiments to return the dead back to life. They were not meant for any evil purposes in the first place. But bringing back the dead is supposed to be impossible. So the creations were mistakes. They were not human but homunculi. Alchemists created monsters._

In the History of Magic, that was the tale. Myth or fact, it wasn't confirmed. But the truth was that homunculi existed during the wars. They fought and killed for themselves alone, murdering anyone human, allies included. Ghosts feared them, even Dementors couldn't control them.

Hermione remained silent after Ed's outburst, deep in thought. She remembered that Ed's suspected to be that kind of monster. With his relation to Hohenheim, one of the greatest alchemists living, everything made sense. She had told Ron and Harry: Edward could be the result of who Hohenheim tried to bring back to life.

"Do you hate him, Edward?" Hermione asked. She felt a blush rising up her cheeks. She knew it was a sensitive topic but only the truth could make her feel better. Less guilty. After all, Edward Elric had a lot to hide. Whatever he told Harry seemed to be the truth, yet there were many more layers.

Ed snorted. She took that as a 'yes'.

Hermione felt herself lighten up with that answer. Hate was better than indifference.

"Do you trust me, Ed?"

Ed looked at her, puzzled.

"Do you trust me as a friend?" Hermione said again.

After a tense silence, he muttered, "I guess."

"Then I hope you can tell me whatever you're hiding. Maybe not now but someday," she tried her best to sound sincere, to reach into the icy depths of Ed's heart.

Ed was still walking, stiffly, as if every step were a burden. "You will judge." They all will. It is human nature. To be afraid, and to want to destroy that fear.

It was a hard, steel cold statement.

There was that look in his golden eyes. Hermione realized that he seemed older with that look. Nothing totally added up from the stories she heard. Like Ed lived longer that they did. It could be the reason for his pain, his hate. However, she wanted to know. And moreover, she wanted Edward to know that she can make the correct judgment.

"Are you a Homunculus?"

Hermione spoke softly, as if part of her didn't want to ask that simple question. She noticed Ed's heavy feet slowing, hands clenched in shock. He swallowed, a lump in his throat and his feet not responding.

If he was, what would she do? Ask if he's evil? Ask if he's going to kill everyone and eat their soul? If he wasn't, what would she do? Apologize for thinking that he was some sort of dark creature?

_Lie_, Edward Elric commanded himself.

"I am…was not," Edward muttered. He gave one of his saddest smiles before deciding to make a bolt for it.

Stop running away.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Apparently, Edward underestimated the _kids_. He should've figured they would piece up information they gathered from him and finally guess it. He should've known his frequent disappearance to talk to one ghost while the others avoid him like he was some sort of monster would trigger suspicion. He should've guessed that Moaning Myrtle would shoot her mouth off.

Probably under Truth's order.

What would he do? Flee? He had more pride than that. He was so close. He almost un-coded the riddles. He can't leave. Even if they know, what can they do?

Accept him?

Edward was downright frustrated and highly pissed. He wanted to strangle Myrtle but his killer intent could be so clearly felt that she fled to the fifth floor girl's toilet. He began ranting to the one person who could stand him: Nick.

After, Sir Nicholas laughed heartily. "Chatting with you, lad, really makes me feel alive again."

Ed froze. His fingers twitched before he clenched his gloved hand into a fist. "Why is that so? How can something inhumane like me give you 'life'?"

Nick's laugher faded that instant. "Ah, Edward, you are most definitely 'human'. This humanity within you is shown so obviously."

"I don't get it." Edward looked like a child, like one questioning an adult with curiosity and innocence.

"If you refer to yourself being a homunculus, than you are the only one who managed to obtain and keep humanity," Nick said, meaning to be comfort.

Nick patted Ed on the head affectionately. "You can touch a ghost. This is one of the reasons I can feel the blood in my veins again. And you, who can touch death, yet remain untainted shows that you have a pure, human soul."

"Are you sure?"

"You doubt me, Edward?"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Look at you, Edward. You had become a lifeless shell. But ever since meeting Alfrons and coming here, you've opened up. Slowly returned to your usual self. No longer so…

As if glass shattered in rage, smashed on the floor of the white space. Truth's amused grin changed into a menacing one.

You belong here, with me! You can't escape! You can't even have the thought of escaping! Bound to the gate, Edward Elric. You need to remember that. Perhaps I need to give you a reminder.

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Nick floated towards Ed who was leaning against the wall of the toilet. He took Ed's hand, trying to unclench it. "You said everything had and has followed the law of Equivalent Exchange. What you work for, you get its reward. What you borrow, you return. When given, you pay back. Coincidence and the Inevitable. Fate and Karma." Nick sounded serious, floating away. "However there is one thing that Equivalent Exchange does not affect. That is the emotions that humans give each other. You can receive as much as you want and there will be no price to pay. You can give all you want yet get nothing in return."

Ed's eyes widened, trying to figure out what Nick was trying to tell him.

"Do you really believe that with us friends, there is equivalent exchange? As friends, each of us should give as much as we can not to think that they'll receive equally in return, but as we can be share the joy and happiness that comes with friendship."

Edward was stunned. Either with shock or the strange feeling Nick was trying to convey.

The sun had gone down ages ago.

"Well, lad. Isn't it time for that defense class of yours? You better not be late to break the rules, Edward," Nick said, chuckling.

Ed waved causally and turned to exit.

It was a real smile on his face.

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Edward thought they had to run through another wall. He narrowed his gaze at the sight of the Room of Requirement. Magic can really do wonders. So _amazing_ (slight sarcasm inserted) that it can give one a headache. Ed inwardly sighed, telling himself that he signed up for this.

But he found use in the simple lesson. The disarming thing could help in battle. Ed practiced a few times before retreating away to the books by the sides of the room. The stunning or immobilizing spells could come in handy. To knock an opponent down with a flash of light is certainly less complicated. No wonder wizards were hardly in shape.

If they were, they'd probably gained an advantage against the Dark Lord whatshisname. Ed smirked.

"Hey, Ed," Harry patted the blonde on his shoulder. A grunt was the response.

"Ernie said you've already mastered the spell."

"Who?"

"Your partner. He's practicing with Dean now."

Ed preferred his solitude. He snapped the book shut and faced Harry with his piercing golden gaze. "I have a…suggestion."

He almost mentally slapped himself.

"You want to teach hand-to-hand battle?" Harry said.

"Yeah."

What can you gain for this, Edward Elric? What happened to Equivalent Exchange?

"I repeat," Harry said, doubt clearly reflected in his tone. "You _want_ to?"

Screw Equivalent Exchange. Edward had Nick's words thrumming through his brain and everything he believed and based his life on was pushed aside.

"Harry," Ed said, perfectly serious. "I think you guys rely too much on your wands. If your sticks are gone, you'll be defenseless."

It was a fact.

"I can't teach defensive alchemy," Ed continued. "It'll be too difficult. But I can teach you how to attack if you lose your wand."

Harry smiled. "I'll have to ask the others."

On the idea, there wasn't much to argue about. But the _teacher_ on the other hand

"_He_ has to teach us?"

"Bet that bookworm doesn't know anything about fighting!"

Ed twitched.

Murmur, murmur, murmur

"I used to learn taekwondo. Even I could be a better teacher than that…"

"SHUT UP!" Ed yelled. There was silence but he earned himself a few glares.

Zacharias Smith looked smug. "Well, if you're fit to teach us, why don't prove it?"

Ed took that as an invitation to punch the Gryffindor's face. With a ton of self control, he dodged the red light from Smith's wand and landed a light blow in his gut, followed by a kick in the shin. Zacharias lost balance and landed hard on the ground on his bottom, clutching his stomach. His wand left his hand and was sitting a few meters away.

"I could have knocked you cold and killed you, bastard," he snarled. "With your slow reflexes, even a muggle can kill you when given the right weapon (aka a gun)."

There were more murmurs. Smith wasn't looking too happy sitting on the floor with a sore bum.

Hermione spoke up, "I say we could give Ed a chance. We'll switch lessons every week, alright?"

Some gave reluctant agreements. Some looked fascinated. Some looked impressed. Maybe one or two noticed the blazing fire of molten gold that were his eyes.

The question was: Why did emotionless yet mean Edward who never wanted any contact be it physical or emotional with anyone suddenly decides to get so involved?

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Not just about Umbitch anymore, is it?

Edward gave a throaty laugh. Ever since that night, he couldn't concentrate, couldn't do anything. Even reading didn't help; none of the words were actually absorbed into his brain. He actually found himself thinking of ways to train…torture the students he would be teaching. Just what was wrong with him? So many years of _not_ caring have gone to waste the minute he stepped into the school.

Ed tried watching the Quidditch game. The noisy cheering just made him more irritable. And it made him confirm that a person's feet should stay on the ground – especially not in the air on a broom. Finally, he confirmed it was just not his week. Things were slow, confusing and exhausting.

Hermione was feeling the same thing, just lesser than Edward. The suggestion the blonde made surprised everyone. And his sudden change of mood plus the cryptic answer to her 'homunculus' question had her thinking. They were deceptive monsters. Human masks covered scheming and vicious beings. It was clear that Edward Elric is a homunculus. Yet, Hermione just _knew_ that he wasn't a bad person.

How messed up is that?

Ed decided to leave the pitch in the middle of the game. Every time someone scored a goal or did something wrong there just had to be so much loud sound. It gave him a f***ing headache.

Hohenheim heard the angry footsteps from a corner away. He walked, saw Edward, slowed and unconsciously rubbed the bridge of his nose. The steps of his son seemed to lighten, hesitant too.

"Are you…"

And his little blonde boy was gone.

The next day, Ed saw his father again, attempted to ask a question but backed out in the last minute. He was so frustrated, it hurt his head and the stress flowed to his stomach and caused it to hurt too.

Would he have cried angry tears for that man?

_**Are you afraid?**_

Ed snapped out of his daze. To his shock, a bird on fire was sitting on the table beside him, cocking its head. He almost fell out of his chair. A _phoenix_, _Dumbledore's_ phoenix was _here_, _talking_ to_ him_, and apparently not burning the book it was on.

_**Come. Follow.**_

"Wha…"

_**Follow, child. **_

It did not seem like an order, more like a gentle reminder. The calm was settling well into Ed's hazy mind, soothing his senses once again.

Out of the library, out of the school, out of reality, into the outside, into the breeze, into the wilderness.

_**You were hurting, yet you did not seek us.**_

Edward had entered a part of a forest. His golden eyes peered around curiously. Unfocused, yet in full concentration.

_**That is the beauty of the magical creatures. Those who are unbounded. Those who Truth's will do not touch.**_

The phoenix hovered before settling on a low branch in a nearby tree.

_**But it is also a double edged sword. We can give you peace, but too much will cause you to lose direction. Too much, and you will become unbounded like us. Our lives a neverending cycle. Die and rebirth, a circle has no end, no beginning. **_

Fawkes sang. Warm flame feathers fell to the ground, disappearing into sparks and ash. It was a warning.

_**Tonight. Tonight. The gears will start to move again.**_

Warning. An omen. A premonition.

_**Do not forget this. **_

Edward realized the voice that thrummed in his head was deep, serious in tone, worthy of a king. A baritone voice, reminding, warning.

_**Child, why didn't you seek us?**_

_**Admit it, you were afraid.**_

It was a different voice, obviously from a different source. This was old, pitched like a wise old woman. Yet there was a spring of youth in the sound, holding the elegance of a middle aged lady. Something nuzzled his back. Edward spun around but he had no intention of attacking. No guard up, nor fighting stance. The voice talked and he found no need. He was just lightly surprised.

"I am not," Ed said firmly, a pout formed on his lips. The thestral shifted closer, nose on his cheek, white eyes glowing.

_**You aren't alone. Remember the deal? Companionship.**_

"Y…Yeah…" Edward at that moment did not feel comfortable talking to a horse.

_**Then what are you afraid of?**_

Edward did not answer. He became distracted, staring at the small flowers that grew at the roots of the tree and a single dandelion bobbing to the unfelt breeze. Looking up to the leafless branch where the phoenix was, it wasn't charred at all. It seemed that life appeared where the bird's feathers touched the rotting bark. Fawkes had left.

_**Attachment. Bonds. You don't want to hold onto them for the fear of losing them again. **_

Something knocked him in the legs while he was processing the words. His attention went to the smaller thestral which playfully took a few steps before tackling him to the ground.

Ed was painfully reminded of Alexander and Nina. But he did not feel sad. He did not hear her voice calling for him, nor see the chimera that stared at him with blank eyes. Instead he focused on the times they played, and Al, and how the big dog loved to jump at him.

"Erm…get off?" Ed said, but the thestral remained on him, licking him affectionately. Edward struggled comically before resulting to glaring at the mom.

_**He hasn't been this excited in a long time.**_

Ed gave up. Slowly, he pushed himself up, sitting cross legged on the patch of grass and dirt. The baby thestral still clung onto him. He stoked the black leathery body, getting himself another soft lick.

"OOHH!"

Edward jumped, turning. It was a girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a fascinated; airhead look Ed could see her Ravenclaw badge from her Hogwarts robes. A necklace of corks was strung around her neck. She came to him, squatting down. She looked so much like Winry that he was afraid she would suddenly take out a wrench to hit him.

"You're a Higglesmurf!"

His Winry image was smashed in his mind after hearing the airy voice.

"Excuse me?" he asked. He had a feeling he would feel insulted with her answer.

"A beardless dwarf who could speak to all kinds of animals."

"I'm NOT SHORT!" he growled, feeling guilty immediately. If he was shouting at Winry, he would just get an insult back and a wrench in his head. But this was just a random girl who looked exactly like her. Not cool.

"Ohh…" the girl said, as if she finally understood something complicated. Her eyes almost trying to be serious, but retained that dream-like look. "You're Edward Elric." She talked like it was a fact that meant something. She sounded like everything could be believable.

"Yes?" he muttered, keeping his gaze away. He played with the baby thestral, gently rubbing the small bony body, scratching his belly. The creature rolled around, making weird whinny noises.

"I've heard of you. The only Gryffindor who is nasty enough to possibly end up in Slytherin."

_I've got the badass reputation._ Ed thought, smug and a little sacarstic. He turned to focus on the Ravenclaw's blonde hair.

Winry… Promised not to make her cry. Promised to get back Al's body.

_Come back home…_

Edward glanced at the stone castle beyond the trees. Get out of here. I have to leave. Before she says anything else. Before I know her name. Before anyone else would get hurt. If I don't know her, if she doesn't know me.

The Ravenclaw stood up, reaching into her sling bag and taking out an apple to feed the mother thestral. Edward stared at her wavy blonde locks, the dreamy blue gaze. The older thestral seemed to be observing, tilting her head as she chomped on the apple core. Her white glowy eyes seemed to shine even more.

_God, I want to see her again. That hair, it used to smell of metal and oil. I wonder what her hair would…_

_This is not. She is 'Winry' of this world. The 'Winry' that never knew me, that never got involved, that never would cry because of me. It is better this way._

_I probably made her cry. Back in Amestris, she is probably waiting for me to come home with Al. _

_**You long to see her again.**_

"I can't ever go home," he whispered. He already decided. And it was the cold, hard truth that he could never return, or even never wake up alive.

_**Then you are afraid.**_

"True. But then it is because I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

_**People will still hurt because of you. Because humans can never be alone in the world. You don't only belong to yourself, you know. There probably isn't anyone who belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection, a bond, there is always something shared. **_

"It's not fair."

_**That is not something to be avoided, child. And so people will never be completely free. It's what that brings out the happiness…**_

_**Sadness…**_

_**And love.**_

His eyes widened.

_**Why are you still so afraid? People always subconsciously know this fact. When they reach out, they know inside that sacrifices will have to be made; feelings will have to be shared. **_

_**It is why you are never alone.**_

"My brother…" he whispered.

It is the same. It is something to be accepted, not pushed away. It is something you can never run away from. It is something you can never let go.

He was back in reality by the Ravenclaw's tongue. "You're talking to the thestral, isn't it? What an amazing language," she said, smiling, blue eyes twinkling like little sapphires. "So, what did she say?"

Edward knew he was speaking Amestrain. It was a language he couldn't stop practicing and one he fully preferred using. He sighed, resigned. But in a way the sigh was more comfortable.

"She wanted to know your name."

"Oh. Luna Lovegood." She was stoking the thestral on the nose with a familiar smile.

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"The thestrals are not allowed."

"Look, bastard," Edward snarled. "I don't know who shoved that stick up your ass but…"

_**Don't worry child. Its best we leave. We are already straining the boundaries allowed to us in the forest.**_

"But…" Ed was silenced by a tiny lick on his cheek, like a mother kissing her child. The thestral mother nudged her child and walked back, in the direction of the shallow forests.

"Be honored, not human. You are one of the privileged two-legged beings to be allowed so far into our quarters," he said haughtily.

_Oh I feel like a princess. _It took most of Ed's self restraint not to give the half-horse some of his more colorful comments.

Edward did not find the centaurs. They found him. And they had some weird star-gazing prophecy to share. He really didn't want anything to do with some stupid possible future, but then again, it might be important.

Fires cackled. In the midst of towering trees, moss and crusty brown leaves, the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest reside. Most of them were sharpening their arrows with rocks, others tendered to the large meat (hopefully not human) roasting on the bonfire.

Once Ed's presence was known, the centaurs around drew their bows, aiming but not shooting, as if waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Do not fret, Edward Elric. They are wary due to the giant which recently came to our residences," the one who led said. He was rather hairy and was half black horse. Bane, he was called.

"Che." Edward crossed his arms, trying to wrinkle his nose at the smell of…horses.

"Be grateful," Bane growled. "You are here for what the elder has seen. Get rid of your displeasure or I'll throw you into the fire, human or foal or not."

"Remind me that you're the one who wanted me here," Ed said, gritting his teeth.

Bane looked like he was about to trample Ed.

"Enough, Bane," a new voice said. An older, more commanding looking chestnut colored centaur took over, sending the other away. "I am Magorian, leader of the herd. The elder wishes to speak with you alone."

Magorian turned and Ed followed him mumbling, carefully stepping over rocks.

It was late, way past curfew. Loads of people probably noticed his disappearance. Fortunately he didn't enter the dorm other than to take his things. Everyone knew he'd appear again after a few hours of being missing, even the teachers.

The 'elder' was a grey centaur, brown skinned and leaning on a rock. He was definitely old, frail and wrinkled with a white grey beard that was roughly cut.

"Edward Elric."

The moment he said that, a weird feeling came with the name. Something ominous. And when Magorian felt the eerie atmosphere, he turned and left.

It was a few long minutes of silence. Well, it wasn't so much. The whistling wind could be heard blowing through the trees, along with the sound of sharpening stone, followed by a couple of yells and footsteps.

But it was creepy.

"So what do you want?" Ed broke the silence rudely. Well, he had been pretty annoyed all day and his whole afternoon and evening spent in the forest left him extremely tired, and more pissed off at the second. It was a miracle that he didn't explode at Bane – the horse would've had his head for dinner.

"I am Omnis. Planets are out of place. Aligning perhaps. It tells us something."

Cuts to the chase, doesn't he? Grumpy old geezer, probably hating every minute talking to a 'two legged being'. Ed could hear the disgust dripping out of the voice, carefully covered up with his serious and knowledgeable tone.

"It's Truth's doing. The Gate's doing." Now, he was acting like some sort of seer, giving a damn dramatic prophecy.

"Why do you care? You're part of those who have no part in the doings of him." Ed's tone was tainted with venom, especially emphasized on the last word.

"We are the in-betweens, boy." Ed growled at that. "Not caught like humans, but not free like the creatures. It is less restricting and less monotone. It gives us the amount of freedom we desire, yet binding us to our ways. But that balance is delicate. It is not something we would ever want to lose, but it may fall apart as easily as breaking a thread."

Before he could say anything, the elder centaur continued.

"You know what makes Thestrals, boy?" Starting to get seriously ticked here (picture big anime vein). "These creatures are free. Bindless. Without future or aim. They travel in a circle, outside the connections of life. Do you know how they came to be?" _Stupid horse trying to show off his knowledge._ Ed thought. "They are the rebirths of humans. Humans who so pitifully desired to be free. They wished to sever all bonds from the world. Those creatures are the result.

Something clicked in Ed's mind. "Suicides…"

The old centaur raised his eyebrows, looking impressed for a second. He continued, seemingly more arrogant, thus attempting to be even more mysterious and creepy. "Yes. Those who take their own lives. They cut the binds to Truth themselves via death. Those people then get death, be death and are omens of death."

It was horrible. But the guy com horse can say it with such a straight face. It made Ed want to punch the face. "That is the price for wishing. The desires will be dealt with equal payment. We do favor being in-betweens. But the stars speak of change." He paused, coughing, heaving like the old man he was. "Our standings are unstable because of a previous incident caused by your kind." He spat out the last few words. "Seven homunculi, meant to be at Truth's back and call. Servants to always follow loyally the orders of your one master." He was mocking them. Ed was surprised that the vicious and menacing homunculi were actually such pathetic _dogs_.

"You know what happened, Edward Elric?" he sneered, showing yellow broken teeth. "Rebellion. They weren't happy. So they created chaos. The war. It was more than a fight between groups of foolish witches and wizards. It was a fight for rights."

Centaurs were so self-centered they surely avoided the war altogether. Omnis continued in his gruff voice, almost casually. "Of course they got what they deserved. Disruption was created. Blood was shed. Truth punished them. They vanished off the face of the earth." Coal black eyes lit up. The wisdom and prejudice was suddenly covered by child like curiosity. "I wonder where they went."

Manipulative bastard. Edward concluded. But he began wrecking his brain, connecting the dots between his world and this. "The dwarf in the flask," he muttered.

"Ah, so that's what happened. They wanted freedom and they were even more confined. The sick beauty of equivalent exchange. It could be called karma." With the thirst of knowledge sated, Omnis laid back on the rock with a smug face. He began coughing again, black eyes hardening.

"Do you bear the mark of Truth, Homunculus?" he asked cryptically.

"What?"

"The ouroboros. That is the binding, boy. And the reminder of what happens when they defy him. A crimson dragon eating its own tail. Powerful beings, the homunculi were. Like the dragons. But forget, and you get hurt. Betray, and you die."

"No. I have something else." Ed could feel his back tingling again. But maybe it was him being paranoid. After all, the cuts were gone.

"Edward Elric," Omnis spoke louder as if to add impact. "Five sacrifices, one will survive. Five competitors, one will win. The ritual knocks down all till one is left standing. Then, two worlds will come together."

Suddenly, Ed realized the old centaur's real purpose. He told him that so just to warn him not to screw up like the previous homunculi. Ed didn't think he even gave a damn about the worlds. He just wanted to say 'in-between'. "You don't care. You're just selfish bastards that…"

"What about you, boy?"

"I…" Ed was about to shoot his mouth on when his tongue got caught at the back of his throat.

_I can't go home._

_After all this is over, I…_

_In this game, no matter what end it is, you still lose._

Death prickled at the back of his neck. Like cold sweat, a lingering stench. It just won't go away. Someone, make it go away.

"We have no more to say." The elder was satisfied. "Remember, everything is changing. The Gate is changing. Truth may be changing."

"What are you trying to tell me?" Ed's voice was strangled.

"If this is necessary for the worlds, then it must be done. Don't go against him, Edward Elric."

This ritual supposedly benefits everything and everyone, except the sacrifices. That is the meaning of 'sacrifice'.

Make it go away. Can't breathe. Go away. Go away. Go awaygoawaygoawaygoway…

You're only one insignificant human being. If it is for billions, you, one tiny hardly seen dot wouldn't matter.

His mouth was in a hard line. There was a grim expression on his face and lifeless gold eyes.

_**Sacrifice.**_

Sacrifice.

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Edward didn't even feel anything when he was told that he would not be escorted out of the forest by Bane. He hated that centaur exceptionally. True, they weren't a friendly bunch. But it seemed that the older they were, the more depressing they could be. The only thing soothing him was the lingering effects of the Thestrals.

Firenze was at least more pleasant. He wasn't supposed to allow any two-legged to ride his back, but he allowed Ed on when they were a good distance away from the herd.

He could feel the trembling body, ever so slight. Pity flooded the kind centaur but he could see the amount of pride the blonde boy had. He wouldn't ask what horrible prophecy Omnis said. But the least he could offer was a chance for the boy to rest his tired legs. It was silent, truly silent now. Only the gentle steps on crushed leaves could be heard.

It was a long moment before Firenze decided to speak.

"I believe we make destiny, young one."

There was a throaty sound by the one on his back.

"Stars do not tell all. Most of my relatives refuse to believe this fact." He stopped, bending his hind legs and lowering his back so Edward can get off. "This is this one of the reasons we seem more bounded."

The boy didn't look like he was there. Physically he was, but every other part of him was gone, to a different world. Or with the wind.

"Omnis is not the wisest. I can tell you that truthfully." Firenze lowered himself so he could be on eye level with the broken boy. So that he could see the honesty, the sincerity. "You hear the Thestrals. They may have greater minds and definitely better hearts. And it is known that phoenixes are the most insightful of all, Edward Elric. Don't lose hope."

Phoenix. Fawkes. Something. Not to forget.

_**Tonight. Tonight. The gears will start to move again.**_

A scream resonated through the night.

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**Hi**

**Exams are finally over! Omg I'm late but I was writing like crazy and produced something so long… ahh so tired now… I don't have the energy to do the final proof read or add the line thing so if you guys can find any mistakes or plot holes, feel free to review me. Thanks.**

**So the Golden Trio technically knows Ed isn't human. But he's so lovable to be evil. They suspect him, but there is mutual trust. Wondering how Ed will teach the DA? That'll come after the snake thing, so stay tuned. (haha I sound like I'm on tv and my brain's really messed up now)**

**I don't know if you noticed this but I have added themes from xxxholic to this fic. I hope you don't mind but I really love that manga and the messages told. All hail clamp. Nick was trying to tell Ed this in case you don't understand: Hey, I accept you as a friend. Stop trying to emo your way out and deal with it.**

**I think I added an EdWin part. Okay, she isn't there but Ed obviously misses her a lot. He dreams about her, imagines her hair…**

**Hohenheim will be explained later. Actually, to those who are wondering where my so called OC is, she's kind of not important yet. Yet. **

**To the centaurs, they're pretty mean originally in the books so I thought that I'll just keep them mean. Sorry Ed. You can hate them, but not all of them. It's the ones in the 'higher rankings' that are the assholes. Like how some the military is in FMA. It's ironic, the elder is following Truth cause he likes his freedom but it make the centaurs seem more bound to Truth.**

**So Ed like jumps from healing to getting hurt, to healing again. I was thinking that he can't just get back his spirit all in one shot so I'm breaking it down, slowly. He'll lapse from time to time but then at the end he'll be whole again. **

**Lastly, I made Ed do the 'che'! Did you notice the totally out of the blue 'che'! KYAA Ed turned into mini Kanda!**

**Review lots! Thank you all reviewers, and alerters and favouriters! You guys are awesome! Review more **

**ssapphireangel**


	13. Walking Corpse

**Chapter 12 Walking Corpse**

The wand light was barely able to keep the shadows of the room away. They seemed like black colored arms creeping towards him, creeping up his sides and groping. Disgusting. Dangerous. All shadows were. Because they all originated from the damn, f**king Gate.

The Gryffindor common room was painted red and gold. A royal, magnificent color. So majestic and powerful. Ed likes the color red. But the night made the golden patterns fade, leaving only red drenching the walls, floors and ceilings. A sea of blood that made Ed loath the color to the depths of hell.

The black leather bound book felt unusually heavy. It was a message from Truth, packed with clues and information. It was not supposed to be normal. How Edward hated it. The cover was too thick, the spine seemed to be made out of metal and the pages were glossy and felt too smooth under his fingertips.

Edward left the book open on the table as he began to balance himself on two legs of the chair. He snorted.

"F**king horse," he muttered under his breath. "Beats around the damn bush just to tell me not to defy orders from that bastard of a god. Sonnova b***h just wants to save his own f**king hide."

The black book had written nearly all of what Omnis said earlier that night. The fonts were wacky, though. The words looked printed and handwritten at the same time.

Edward leaned forward, his face turned from smug to downcast. "Then again I'm already deep in this shit. Couldn't _defy_ him even if I wanted to."

He began contemplating on the fact that he might have wanted to go against the Truth. Ed flipped and reread what he had just bookmarked.

_Chapter 10: The Gate_

The page was filled with a drawing of a pyramid, divided into four columns from top to bottom. There was a heading on the top of the page, bold.

_**The following System of Life is true and confirmed, created by the Gate since the beginning of time:**_

_Homunculi – Bounded to the will of Truth without boundaries, escape or change whatsoever. _

_Humans – Granted free will by the Truth but to always be known as pawns or playthings._

_In betweens (i.e. including centaurs, werewolfs and any half humans) – Neither free nor bound so are the most privileged so as to say. Be warned that they are not to interfere with the balance or else consequences would be most dire._

_Creatures – Out of control of Truth's will, most simple of all beings without anything holding them to whatever. _

"Never said anything about life being fair," Edward murmured, tracing the outline of the tip of the pyramid.

The page next to the drawing held more information that just seemed more degrading.

_**Transferring in the System of Life**_

"If this is horrible," Ed said. "Look how cheaply humans were made."

_Humans can easily move down the system. They are easily changed thus half humans can be made easily._

_For humans to become creatures, they must desire wholeheartedly to be free from Truth's grasp. Also, they must show that desire with action. For example, taking one's own life shows that one would experience the pain and fear of death just to cut off their bonds from the Gate. Thus theses souls would be changed into Thestrals. _

Edward sighed. He flipped to chapter seven: Homunculi. There was a whole account on the first war against some dark wizard. It was an act symbolizing the protest in serving the Truth and the Gate. Ed could sympathize with them. When he read the last paragraph, disgust and hate filled him.

_The war had to end. It was entertaining to see them squirm. After all, if Truth controlled their every move, it wouldn't bring out the surprises. Pity the fun didn't last very long. Fools. There they face their ultimate punishment._

He wanted to smash something in the wall. He wanted to yell and scream at someone. Ed's closed his eyes trying to relax. But his fists were clenched so hard they were trembling. He bit his lip till skin broke and blood dripped down his chin. He quickly swiped it off.

Ed smashed his fist on the table lightly. "Goddammit! Why am I so frustrated?" It took a lot of self control to keep his words quiet. His voice was shaking.

After all, didn't I know this already? Did I expect something else?

Didn't I accept this before?

Ed just wanted to break something. He flipped the book to the chapter on Human Sacrifices.

He had already decided. This was what he chose. This was everything he wanted. Yet why is his mind thinking differently?

Once again his hands came to his forehead, covering his eyes, keeping non-existent tears from spilling.

Alphonse…

This was what he wanted, wasn't it?

He fingered the two words with new feelings.

It was going to be dawn soon. Then the shadows would go away. He didn't know if he was frustrated or afraid. He just wanted something to take everything off his mind. Classes might help. Ed even found himself wishing the DA meeting would start now.

DA meeting…

Why in the nine levels of hell was he thinking of the damn DA every time he f**king felt like strangling something? It doesn't make sense! Edward messed up his hair, annoyed. Wouldn't that annoying group just irritate him further?

Because Winry, no, Luna would be there?

Ed couldn't help a blush rise up his cheeks. He was damn grateful no one was up yet.

He rocked his chair back and forth, frowning. Back front back front back front…

"OW!" Edward found himself crashing sideways, on his not so metal arm. He sat up on the carpet, rubbing an aching cheek. He probably bruised his elbow.

Then a flaring pain erupted in his back. He bit back a yell and palmed the ground trying not to fall forward. Screwing up his eyes and clenching the fur of the rug, he arched his back, soft gasps escaping his lips. Ed could feel the fire on his back, the blood trickling down his sides even though there was nothing there.

The pain held its intensity for minutes that seemed like hours before subsiding slowly.

Edward panted and cursed in fifteen different languages.

_**Tonight. Tonight. The gears will start to move again.**_

Ed almost went into panic mode when he remembered that premonition thing a bird of all things gave him. "Dammit!" He swore violently as he stumbled, trying to get on his shaking legs.

"Harry! HARRY!"

Ed's eyes widened when he heard the yelling from the stairs leading to the dormitories. There were more anxious shouts, all of the name of the same person.

He hands balled into fists.

_He can't be! _Was what screamed in his mind. _Dammit! That b*stard!_

* * *

Ed could not believe he was arguing with a statue. Their 'conversation' ran from asking to demanding to even bribing. Then came the threats however said stone gargoyle seemed dubious (the statue didn't say a thing).

An anime vein was bulging on Edward's temple. He glared daggers, choppers and swords at the gargoyle.

"I don't give damn about the f**king password," he snarled. "Let me in or I'll transmute you into f**king dust."

A second of silence later, Edward clapped his hands and just as the blue lightning appeared, the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside.

"Ah, Edward," Dumbledore said. "Nice of you to join us."

Damn old man with twinkling eyes.

"Dumbledore!"

Ed's eyes flashed to the portrait of Everard, one of the previous headmasters of Hogwarts. He was panting (how the hell can a painting be tired), quite flustered and mopping the sweat on his brow with a curtain behind him.

"I yelled until someone came running. He doesn't look too good; he's covered in blood…"

"Good," said Dumbledore. "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive…"

Then, Dilys reappeared in her picture. "Yes, they've taken him to St Mungo's, Dumbledore. They carried him past my portrait…he looks bad…"

Edward was currently pissed but he held his tongue and acted like he wasn't there. His eyes were fixed on a certain Harry Potter. That was his usual calculative glance. _Probably wasn't just a dream. A vision? Nah, he stinks in Divination. Something's up._

Ed's golden stare was intense. His eyes moved up the teenager's face and rested on the spot where the lightning bolt scar was hidden.

_Brat's complaining his scar hurt. Is it cursed? Voldy didn't give it to him on purpose. _

Ed's eyes widened slightly. His brain was currently multitasking: Listening to the conversation in the room and remembering what the black book wrote about Human Sacrifices.

_Pray that that mark was just some accident._

To what God?

_Just make sure that that bastard didn't choose him too._

Everyone was so caught up with the news that they completely ignored Edward. He was clenching the black book in his hands, something he unconsciously brought along. His eyebrows were furrowed, stress piling onto the center of his forehead.

Fred, George and Ginny were just ushered into the room.

"What's going on? Professor McGonagall said Harry saw Dad got hurt…"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore, "I am sending you to Sirius' house and you will meet your mother there."

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor. A wave of fatigue washed over Ed. The all-nighter he pulled was coming back at him and plus the book in his hands all equaled to a migraine. When he saw the feather, Ed immediately wanted to see the phoenix, to get some form of that relaxing feeling the bird gave.

"That's Fawks' warning," Dumbledore said. "Professor Umbridge must know you're awake. Hurry, take the Portkey."

Damn, wizards' travel. Always spelt trouble.

"Edward."

The blonde did not want to go back to that dark and grimy house. He was fine being the visible eavesdropper. He found no reason to follow. But yet… No. He had to stop. He can't continue getting involved in that f**king magic war! But he can't exactly stroll back to bed as if he wasn't there.

"Edward," Dumbledore said again, louder to break Ed out of his trance.

"What?" he snapped earning a disapproving look from Professor McGonagall.

"You will be going back to Grimmauld Place with Harry and the Weasleys," the Headmaster said.

"I don't want to. I don't see the need to anyway," Ed said.

The old man's blue eyes held a weird light. "The Order wishes to speak with you."

Ed grunted. He felt the urge to give a sarcastic comment.

"In ten seconds, the Portkey will activate."

Edward caught Dumbledore's gaze. He had a bad feeling. He just knew trouble was out there. And like every other time, he apparently went out seeking for it. The Weaselys' and Harry were reaching out for that blackened kettle lying innocently on the table. Ed touched it, slowly, reluctantly.

"Ah Edward," Dumbledore said out of nowhere. "My gargoyle must be mentally scarred."

Ed snorted.

"One…two…"

And in a fraction of a second, Harry's scar burned white hot. And unwanted feeling rose within him, hatred so powerful and terrifying that made Harry want to bite, to sink his fangs into Dumbledore.

Simultaneously, Edward's back felt like it was ripped apart. Like his skin was flayed right then and there, a sickening pain that made bile rise up his throat and magnified the migraine tenfold.

"…three."

* * *

Edward was in a dark place, floating. It was a place without feeling, some form of limbo that made him emotionless. There was just nothing and he was just there. He wondered if that was how death would feel like. However, all thoughts slipped from him a second after they popped into his head. Like sand trickling through his fingers in that endless void…

When Ed closed his eyes, he found himself awake in a dim room. Oh he so very clearly remembered that ceiling. Welcome back to the land of the living, specifically the prison cell.

He felt like he just woke up from a long nap. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he slowly crawled out of the bed. Yup, that was the place. Grimmauld Place, the 'guest room' he stayed months ago. He slightly smirked at the large cardboard boxes that surrounded the bed.

"Is it evening?" Ed murmured. He felt a small throbbing at the back of his brain. "What the hell happened?"

Then, there was a slight knocking from the closed door.

Edward opened the door to see a concerned Mrs. Weasley.

"I see you're up, dear. You certainly look better," Molly said. She ushered him out of the room, down the stairs. "You haven't been sleeping well, I can tell. Probably one of the reasons you collapsed after taking the Portkey. Those can give quite a bumpy ride."

Ed remained silent. He didn't correct her. He knew what really happened. And he felt extremely frustrated at his moment of weakness.

Just that, the mark he was given by Truth, what could have caused it to react so violently?

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

He could see Mrs. Weasley's disappointment at his lack of response, feeling slightly guilty.

"How's Mr. Weasley?" he asked suddenly.

She was shocked for a second or two before giving a warm smile. "We visited Arthur earlier. He's fine now."

Edward mumbled something incoherent and looked away.

He glanced at the grimy clock realizing he had been out for quite some time.

Dinner was uneventful. That was until Mad-Eye Moody stood up and barked out that non-Order members leave the room immediately. There was much protesting at first but Mad-Eye was extremely insistent in his own way. A firm hand clamped down on Ed's shoulder which forced him to remain in his seat.

Then Inperturbable Charms were set up.

Edward nibbled on his last piece of bread. _Dumbledore did say that the Order wanted to speak to me._

Most of them were frowning. _Is this some sort of interrogation? _

Well, if they were trying the intimidation trick, it was failing big time.

"We're trying to keep this matter as small and quiet as possible, Elric," Lupin began after a moment of silence. "So please cooperate."

Edward snorted. "You put Veritaserum in my water." He smirked. "Dumbledore told me this was coming."

Mad-Eye growled.

Edward put his bread down. "Don't worry," he said calmly. "Whatever you want to know just come right out and ask."

"We wouldn't know if you were telling the truth," Mad-Eye said.

"You'll just have to figure that on your own then."

Mad-Eye was turning a bit purple. He felt like the boy in front of him was playing them around his finger. Not exactly the ideal interrogation scene. There wasn't exactly a choice about how this was going, unless Elric was forced to drink…

"Alright," Lupin said. "Sirius, you may begin."

So they were taking the gamble. And whatever Edward Elric was hiding it'll come out tonight, hopefully.

"Okay, shrimp," Sirius said.

"I'M NOT A SHRIMP! DON'T CALL ME SMALL OR I'LL CUT OFF YOUR ARMS AND STICK THEM ON YOUR HEAD!"

"Enough! Both of you!" Kingsley cut in before Sirius could retort.

The werewolf looked ragged and tired, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Elric," Lupin said. "Remember the research notes you asked us to bring over?"

Sirius was sulking at the thought of that.

"We found something…interesting in one of the boxes."

Tonks took out a smaller box from underneath the table. She began removing several items and arranging them in front of him.

_Oh shit._

"You are not who we think you are, boy," Mad-Eye snarled. His wand was out and he jabbed a thin brown book with it.

"Elric, most of the 'research' we found didn't make sense," Lupin said.

_Duh, they were in Amestrian, genius. Not to mention in a code you dumbasses will never crack. _

Lupin picked up the small brown book. "Not to mention this." He flipped to the first page. "Eric Pritchard, born in Seattle in 1967."

Ed clenched his fists, silent.

"This passport photo should be around 15 years old," said Lupin. "So does the identification from Mexico and Peru in Southern America. Also, there are documents to several jobs in Alaska, Los Angeles, Australia and the universities you taught in."

"Your point?" Edward snapped. _I'm in deep shit._

"These seemingly legal documents are ranged from 1967 to 1990. And they are all similar as the person the papers apply to is aged 21 with the same photo."

"How do you explain that?" Mad-eye raised his voice. "You could be some Deatheater under a polyjuice potion!"

"No Deatheater would gain by travelling around the world and taking Muggle jobs," Ed said, terrifyingly calm. His eyes were like golden flames, burning intensely.

"Elric, for all I know you are a forty year old trapped in the body of a teenager. Understand that these are dark times and we need to know if you're…"

"What?" Ed almost yelled. "A threat? Or just some f**ker who wants to kill your precious chosen one?" He slammed his right fist onto the table, creating a crack on the wooden surface.

"Edward, calm down!"

"You motherf**kers think you can just touch my stuff and…!"

"Edward!" Mrs. Weasley cried. He felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to press him down.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

He was breathing heavily, face red and eyes blazing with anger that his privacy wasn't respected. Emotions ran amuck, causing him to lose his composure.

Silence was once again introduced to the room. Most of the occupants had their wands out. Lupin didn't take out his wand, arms raised and trying to calm things down.

"Look, we want to think that you have no ill intentions to Harry and the others. But…"

"That's it!" Mad-Eye bellowed. He walked over to Ed, his magical eye completely focused and scanning the blonde's every move. The ex-Auror grabbed Ed's collar and lifted him out of the chair. "You have more than twenty different identities!" he roared. "Now tell us! Who and what are you?"

"Let go of me, bastard," Edward growled through his teeth.

"Mad-Eye, put him down!" Sirius spoke for the first time during the whole conversation, standing up. "Elric may be a suspicious shrimp but according to Harry, he's trustworthy. I don't think he's serving Voldemort."

"That doesn't make him any less dangerous, Black!"

"I don't have any ill intent to Harry or his friends, if that's what you want to know," Ed said.

"You still haven't answered my question!" Moody barked.

"If you don't trust me, why the hell should I trust you?" Ed raised his voice. His hands were trying very hard not to punch the man lifting him off his feet by his collar.

"Ok, stop!" Lupin shouted, standing up. "Mad-Eye, put him _down_!"

Edward was dropped on his feet.

"Equivalent exchange," he said clearly.

"Alright. What are you proposing?" Lupin asked.

"Let me listen to your Order meetings and secret stuff and I'll tell you what I see fit."

"How is that Equivalent exchange?"

"Information for information. Besides, you need to pay up for what you stole from me." Ed was smirking as he gestured at the box of his identification documents.

"We'll have to ask Dumbledore," Kingsley said.

"Can you just answer one simple question?" Lupin asked, pausing. "What's your real name?"

The expression in Ed's eyes changed for a second. "Edward Elric," he said quietly.

"That's strange. We checked and Edward Elric was murdered in 1963, in Munich, Germany. His grave is there to prove it."

Ed refused to look at anyone in the eye. He looked drained all of a sudden, physically and emotionally. "I'm going to bed. Inform me of the next meeting."

And he just left the room, no one stopping him on the way out.

"He died in his own house, the murderer never found. There were no witnesses, no one heard his screams."

* * *

The tense atmosphere was lifted when the sound of a door shutting was heard from upstairs.

"Molly, he's technically going to be a part of the Order and you didn't say anything," Lupin said.

"I know he's still a child." Mrs. Weasley hesitated. "He doesn't seem anything like one either."

"More like a battle hardened adult, don't you think?"

"Who knows what's going on in that runt's mind. But for some reason I can see he's not a danger or anything. Just doesn't have that malice." Sirius sat down, putting his feet on the table.

"So we wait and see how things go?" Lupin asked.

"I think it's the best that we can do," Kingsley agreed.

Moody banged his stick on the ground. "Let's just hope that it isn't too late when he tries something."

* * *

Excerpt from the Darkest Alchemy Chapter 6 Human Sacrifices Page 148

_After the Human Sacrifices were introduced by the first Homunculus, the first game was finally complete. Now, the second game will once again consist of five sacrifices, marked by the Truth and the Gate themselves. They may not know of their status or the dangerous part they play but there is no change of what they are. They are marked and thus bound. And one by one they will fall. Until the last one is standing, the victor is chosen and the game shall come to a close._

* * *

**Hello **

**Sorry I'm late. I was distracted by YouTube videos while writing this…**

**Okay, so the first bit of the chapter's about what the centaur said in the previous chapter coz I think some of you are confused by his speech. **

**Bet you guys hate Truth now. He treats everything like his toys. **

**Now the breaking news: Harry's a Sacrifice! I'm putting it here in case it wasn't clear enough. Well, the excerpt said that the sacrifices would be marked: aka lightning scar. So the mark when reacting will affect Ed badly coz he's a sacrifice too. So Harry's part of the f**ked up game too! Well that's not a good thing… So who else do you think are the sacrifices?**

**By the way, is my Ed swearing getting better? **

**The Order interrogation didn't go so smoothly. Yeah, Ed has that effect. Everyone's all different because of him, kind of. And they can't force the truth from him. Ed would never allow it. But he'll become honest, some day… Lastly, did you notice the disappearance of the black book? It was there in Dumbledore's office, then it was gone when he blacked out. Where did you think it went?**

**I hope this chapter's not too depressing or horrible or anything like that. Everything's gonna get better next chapter coz Christmas is coming! Yay! Merry early Christmas! **

**Review lots! Questions and constructive critisism is welcomed! ****Thanks for sticking with my story!**

**ssapphireangel**


	14. Home

**Chapter 13 Home**

Ed couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned on his bed and sighed. The sheets were itchy and the mattress was too hard for his liking. And the pillow was lumpy and thin, hardly like a pillow at all, not to mention it smelt like sweat for some reason.

The room was not his favorite place in the world. Heck, he hated the damn house and almost everything in it. There wasn't even a fireplace to calm his raging emotions.

_Can't believe this f**king game dragged me into a damn war. It's like the military all over again._

Anger was most prominent. In fact, anger was what hid the determination he had to keep going on. Soon it changed into a sense of desire, intertwined with the despair that reared its head after months of being suppressed. And Ed sighed. Because under all those feelings, hopelessness lingered like a bad smell.

"All I did was go to school. Got into a whole lotta shit just for a f**king library," Edward muttered under his breath.

_But I sold away my childhood when I became a dog of the military. What makes me think that I can just get it back by going to school again? _

Doesn't that seem like déjà vu?

Edward turned to lie on his side, staring at the outlines and shadows of his many boxes. But he's in that mess, deep. There is no way possible to get out of it. Maybe to get to the end of this is the hope that he'll miraculously survive like the countless times he did before.

He chuckled bitterly at the thought. "Al would kill me if he found out I'm fighting another war."

His thoughts trailed to his brother. He remembered that he was so caught up with moving on, _walking with what was left of his feet_. So obsessed with creating identity after identity. But in the end, he was only running away.

_It was August, 1990. He arrived outside Oxford University, just so happened that he decided to pick another school to lecture in. He was _recommended_, you see. But the Head was dubious. Ed's age did not suit his height, more so his intelligence. The Head just had to see for himself._

_And Edward had just created a whole new set of forged documents, all in a briefcase in his hand, together with his resume._

_He smirked smugly. Not at the fact that he was where he was, but that the governments have become rather slack that century. _

Everything had become so _fake_ that Ed himself didn't know what to believe in anymore. This was his _what_ name? Donno, lost count after eighteen totally different names. Forgot his background again? Nah, but soon maybe he'll forget his actual name.

_He hesitated when the sudden biting thought that the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, was reduced to _this_._

_Then Ed took a step forward only to be knocked down, literally. His briefcase was flung open and papers flew in all directions. He landed uncomfortably on his butt._

"_Ow! Watch where you're going, damn idiot!" Ed yelled. _

"_Omygosh, I'm so sorry!" The voice was definitely male, but it had a certain feminine pitch._

_There was a rush and the sound of papers being gathered._

_Such a shadow of his old self._

"_Alphonse?"_

_Such a shell of his usual self._

"_Not quite, sir." The boy arranged the papers and handed them to Ed. "I'm Alfrons __Heiderich."_

_Ed was in a daze. Capturing the image of his little brother. _

"_Sir?"_

"_Erm…" Ed said uncharacteristically. "Do you know where I can find the Director's Office?"_

_Al had a friendly smile. "Sure, follow me."_

_It was just like him to help some random stranger that he just banged into. He might even be still collecting cats on rainy days. _

"_So, what's your name, mister?"_

_It took a moment of Ed's quick thinking to come up with an answer to such a simple question._

"_Edward." He photocopied the face of his 'long-lost' brother into his mind. It was only for a second, and Ed was staring at the ground to avoid showing his joy._

_For the first in a long time, Ed smiled. And it was relief, protectiveness and strange happiness. Everything became real again. _

Edward remembered going through a whole lot a trouble to secure a position in the school. Not to mention how much he did to teach in at least one of Alfrons' classes. It was a whole load of trouble, forging documents, changing names and some other legal shit, but it was worth it.

He felt like he had his brother back again. And in his class, he was particularly strict to Alfrons, strangely protective to Alfrons and unusually caring to Alfrons. People bound to notice something was up. It was a whole lot more trouble, but Ed didn't care.

But then he had to leave. When he realized he could no longer slip through people's suspicion, he reluctantly quit and migrated to England.

Even though time passed so quickly and he wanted more than anything to remain that way forever. That was the longest he ever stayed in a place and almost – almost – called it home.

And Edward only found sleep remembering.

""""""""""""""""""

Harry was obviously bothered with something.

The next few days were pretty silent for Ed. Well, he did stayed locked up in his room most of the time. Despite being figuratively nonexistent, he noticed that Harry was acting strange. Stressed out, broody and clearly avoiding any living being.

Then, Christmas was coming and everyone was decorating, including Ed. He tried stressing the fact that he didn't want to and the only reason why he was actually socializing was because he was banned from his room. Everything turned noisy.

And of all people Sirius was happiest. He had to be, having actual company for the first time in months of being stuck in the house he hated. But he was going overboard. And just so happened that Ed and Sirius were alone in a room.

Ed felt the need to interrupt the Christmas carols he was singing. With an insult of course.

"Oh sorry. Didn't see you down there," Black said with a smirk. "Merry Christmas, Elric."

Ed merely scowled.

"Only you would wear a frown during Christmas," Sirius said in a mocking voice. "Haven't you heard that smiling makes you grow taller?"

"Haven't you heard that shutting up stops aging? But you're already an old man."

"You little brat…"

Edward met his eyes with his usual intense gaze. "Why did you help me?" he said bluntly, cutting off Sirius' initial retort.

He didn't expect that. He thought of that question before, while the Order was checking up Elric. Yet Sirius still couldn't quite understand why no matter what evidence was against him, he would always have a gut feeling that the boy was trustworthy.

"Instinct, I guess." The ex-criminal rubbed his chin.

It was just so hard to maintain simple eye contact with someone like Edward Elric.

"Heh." Edward slumped into the nearest armchair. "You remind me of Mustang. Not clever enough to be as manipulative though."

"What do you mean by 'not clever enough', shrimp?" Sirius didn't seem to be offended.

Ed smirked.

"Who's Mustang?" the Amaigus asked.

Ed decided not to tell that Colonel Useless-in-the-Rain was his superior officer of a military of a country in another world. "He was my guardian, I guess," Ed said instead.

"Was?"

"Well, I'm of age you know. Don't need one now. Don't want one either, especially not a bastard like him."

"Okay," Sirius said, stepping towards the coffee table for his mug of tea. "So I'm a bastard?"

Ed pretended to consider his answer. "A bastard who has my back, I could say."

Sirius was amused. He never thought the Edward Elric would be so open with him. He wondered if Ed would tell him more, talk to him more than he did with any other adult. Maybe it was good to have at least one civil conversation with the midget. Perhaps Edward was still a little kid who wanted the support of someone who could understand him.

"I would never actually say that to his face. But Mustang helped me a lot in my life. When I thought was the worst point of my life, he got me to stand up again. And he protected me and my brother. Very discreetly though."

Sirius was intrigued by the thoughtful look of the 'teen' as he babbled thoughtlessly. Ed sounded grateful. But the way he said it in the past tense made it seem like he had lost everything already.

"But I still hate him. Damn bastard and his sarcastic remarks: 'What trouble did you get yourself into again?' 'How long are you going to be using precious funds for your wild goose chase?' 'Where did Edward go? Oh there you are I couldn't see you over my paperwork.'"

Sirius was grinning at how Ed was mimicking his 'guardian' with mock disdain.

But it still sounded like everything was gone and could not come back.

Ed didn't give much thought on what he should or shouldn't say. For first in a long time, he actually _rambled_.

But it was truth. The Colonel was always trying to protect him, in his way. Nina's death, Scar, the 5th Laboratory, Hughes' death… It was as if Mustang was trying to keep a child away from the horrors of the world. And also very, very, very subtly playing the parental figure. The thing was: Mustang was in the background trying to get Ed to keep his childlike innocence for just a while longer but he in turn was the same person who got him to join the military. Oh the irony.

Even though a bitter smell hung in the air, Sirius and Ed carried on with their first actual conversation for a while, ranging from stories to sarcasm to insults.

"Three…two…one… Fred, it's been a whole fifteen minutes and both of them are still alive."

"It's the magic of Chistmas, George. A miracle has been created and neither has actually tried to kill the other!"

"That also means you owe me five gallons, dear brother."

""""""""""""""""""""

"So…do you think I'm being possessed, then?"

There's another troubling thing that popped out, following the list of troubling things that seemed to come up all of a sudden. Ed was thinking about his conversation with Sirius, wondering if he had revealed anything important. Just at that moment, he realized something important and rather dangerous missing. And it was only 3.47 in the afternoon.

"That dream I had… it was different."

Ed sighed. He had been looking for Truth's black book for over two hours. It actually vanished into thin air. And he didn't feel any different. No throbbing headache, no burning back. It was as if Truth didn't know his little 'message' had left Ed's side.

"I was inside that snake. It was like I was the snake… Does that mean that Voldemort managed to transport me to London?"

"Impossible," Ed appeared from behind a chair and put his search on hold. "Someone would have noticed if you did go missing."

Harry and Hermione jumped. Ron gasped, "Stop doing that!"

"You were not gone physically. But Mouldy Lord may have the power to move you mentally." Edward's sharp golden gaze fell upon the lightning bold scar, which was hidden by black hair. He wondered if he should say more. It may raise suspicion towards himself, and Harry did not totally trust him anyways.

_I'll take the risk._ Ed met Harry with his usual gaze. "That's not a normal scar, is it?"

Green eyes immediately narrowed.

"Harry, you said your scar was hurting often," Hermione added.

"Then there is the possibility that that scar is like an open link to your mind. If it is that kind of connection, it would definitely give him the power over your thoughts. That in turn would give him control over your being," Edward reasoned, golden orbs flaring.

Yet he didn't flinch like most people would. "If that's the case, what can I do?" Harry asked.

Ed smirked, cocking his head smugly. "Simple. If you have an open link to your mind, just close it."

"How can I do that?"

Ed didn't answer, slightly surprised at the little doubt and suspicion Harry Potter was showing him.

"Well, I've read about ways to put up mental shields," Hermione said. "It's called Occlumency, a really advanced topic way beyond the school curriculum."

"So that will help me protect my mind from Voldemort?" Harry said.

Both Hermione and Ed nodded.

"Who would teach me?"

Ed then smirked. "Dumbledore probably already thought of this. If I'm not wrong, he's going to take care of it."

"So Dumbledore's going to teach me?" There was a certain spark in Harry's eyes, and his tone turned a slight bit hopeful.

"I doubt it." Edward's eyebrows furrowed in thought and he nibbled on his lower lip. "You see if your mind is now totally vulnerable, Voldy there can use it as a little window to spy on Dumbledore. He could see and hear everything that's going on. So in order to prevent him from using you against the old man, Dumbledore would most likely keep his distance from you."

And the hope was smashed into bits. "Is that why he never tells me anything?"

"It's war, Harry. The old man has to make each step carefully to not end up in his grave." Ed felt a bit guilty at Harry's downcast face. He bit his lip, trying a reassuring voice. "It's not that Dumbledore doesn't trust you. It's precaution. In fact, I think Dumbledore places his trust in you the most."

Ed was never the best at comforting. That's why his voice would go soft and his eyes would dart to the grimy ceiling.

"Thanks." There was a small smile.

"""""""""""""""""

Ed thought things would turn for the better the next morning.

F**k Truth. F**k the Gate. F**k the book that decided to go missing at a crucial timing.

He was sitting at the edge of his bed, right after getting dressed, fists clenching the sheets and eyebrows joint together.

If Harry's scar marked him as a Human Sacrifice, it just got a whole lot more complicated. Voldemort's mind was connected to that cursed thing. Does that mean that Voldemort was part of the game? Could a mark be a bond to another?

Ed had to assume that both were Human Sacrifices. Of all the people he met, they were the most eligible. A 'Boy-who-lived' and a supposed immortal murderer. They also had something to do with the 'maimed soul' he was searching for.

But Harry doesn't know anything. Voldemort might, but Harry's still _innocent_. He doesn't know about Truth. And he can't meet someone he hasn't heard of, can he? Ed knew that the Truth can't call someone, that person must come to him.

So as long as he never meets Truth, he can still be saved.

Ed clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, eyes flashing with determination.

_The boy doesn't need to be dragged into my shit. _

_Then I'll make sure he never sets sight on that bastard._

But in order to confirm his suspicion and close all holes, he would need 'The Darkest Alchemy' book.

Edward fumed internally. He was almost a hundred percent sure he was holding onto the book when he was in Dumbledore's office. He remembered clutching onto it when his back hurt, like it was some sort of freakin' lifeline. Then, he took the Portkey, fainted embarrassingly, and when he awoke, the book was gone.

Someone definitely took it. And when Ed found that someone, he was going to break all of that special person's limbs and castrate him. His suspects were mainly the Order. It wasn't as if they wouldn't dare take his things again, with the previous invasion of privacy.

Edward swore foully.

His murderous thoughts were interrupted by Sirius trampling past the door singing 'God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs' at the top of his voice.

And it's Christmas.

Edward remembered how he recently came to celebrate this very holiday. It started when Alfrons found out how his life was utterly devoid of joy. Then, his 'little brother' got him to throw a party on Christmas, New Year and his birthday each year.

It would be all right, wouldn't it?

For just today, he could forget all about the book and Voldemort and Human Sacrifices. He could throw all the miserable thoughts to the back of his mind, leaving only the memories of snow, songs and Christmas trees.

It's Christmas.

So for just today, he's allowed to forget everything. It would be nice to just remember how to be happy. He had to be allowed that privilege. Just for today.

Edward hands unclenched and his entire posture relaxed.

And the house he loathed as a jail began to feel like home.

"""""""""""""""""""

It was the happiest he felt in a long time. And as the saying goes, good times have to come to an end. But it was way too short lived.

Edward received presents. To be honest, he was expecting a few. And he gave some too, even sent some back to America a few days ago, for Alfrons and the other students he reluctantly befriended. He had sent letters before to update, making sure the mother hen didn't worry at the same time giving a ridiculous but believable reason for the bird.

Owls hate Ed, period.

He just got back the replies. And the bloody bird wouldn't stop pecking him. He had to get Evie to claw at the owl to get his letters. This would be the lucky thirteenth time he had to change owls.

"Enjoying the holiday, Edward?"

Ed scowled, putting down the letters he was reading. It was 10 o' clock at night. In two hours, Christmas was officially over and he was back in his personal hell. He was sitting cross legged on the couch in the living room, the one place that had something close of a fire. However, he had forgotten about the Floo network.

"It was great while it lasted," Ed said stiffly. Even though he didn't look up, he knew who he was speaking to.

"May I take a seat, Edward?" Dumbledore said, sitting down next to him.

Ed scowled harder.

"Ah, smiling will allow one to live a longer lifespan," Dumbledore chuckled.

"Why are you here?" Ed asked bluntly.

"Molly is now putting the children to bed. The Order meeting starts in a half hour."

Golden eyes narrowed. "That means you accept my proposal?"

"Yes." The Headmaster agreed strangely cheerful. "Equivalent Exchange. And you are more of a man than a child."

The last sentence seemed to have more impact on the 'teen'.

"You trust me." It wasn't a question, merely a statement, carrying no shock or gratitude.

The Headmaster became serious. "Hohenheim is one of my oldest friends. We met through good old Nicholas Flamal. We three used to go out for Fire Whiskey and Lemon Drops. During that time he asked a lot about the Philosopher's Stone. Though he never asked for a drop of the Elixir of Life or to turn metal into gold. I could see he only desired the knowledge."

Edward carefully observed Dumbledore's expression but he could not find a clue to why the old man was telling him that story.

"Then a son whom Hohenheim never mentioned appeared. That was when he asked Nicholas for the Elixir and joined the Order. But he never told anyone why he sought immortality. Or why he suddenly decided to become part of a force he at first wanted no part of."

Edward fiddled with the wrinkled letters on his lap. "You're guessing that those events were because of me."

He almost flinched when a hand patted him on his left automail knee. "Do not take this the wrong way, Edward. I know some secrets about you, but not all secrets." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled.

Golden orbs flashed. What did the old coot know? Did the Bastard tell him anything? But Ed put up an uncaring front, setting down the paper onto his lap.

"Enlighten me."

Dumbledore smiled at the clear invitation. "I know that what you've been through is the same to what your father experienced. But I do not know what. They might be similar, yet yours is proven to be so much more terrible. Again, I do not know what. Pardon a curious old man, would you?"

Edward grew very suspicious, as well as confused. So all that the Headmaster knew was his physical condition and that something horrible happened. Was he leaving something out? Ed couldn't tell. How can someone be honest yet deceitful? Heh, he f**king talks in riddles like damn Truth.

But it is undeniably better off not knowing.

Dumbledore was highly interested in Ed's 'thinking hard' face. Looking at those eyes that resembled inextinguishable flames, he decided to finally break the silence into the next phase of his plan. Dumbledore pulled out something from his sleeve.

"You dropped this in my office." He wasn't lying particularly but his casual voice just made things seem more suspicious.

A black book.

Ed took great measure to restrain all reactions and emotions.

"You're returning this."

"Ah, yes. After all, all I see is an empty book."

The book was clearly not empty to Ed. But he still took it, peering at the cover with haunted eyes.

"It is not magic that is refusing me to read the contents, Edward."

As if the book heard those words, it heated up in Ed's hands. The back cover seemed to shock Edward, telling him to read it. He barely managed to stop his hands from trembling. It was as if the room dimmed and cold breezes gushed in, melting what was left of the fire.

Inside the back cover was the message. And something else was written beneath it. It was angrily scrawled, deeply carved scribbles.

_**Tell the old human to stop messing with things he is not a part of.**_

Edward slammed the book shut, clutching it to his chest. The letters on his lap slipped down onto the floor. Dumbledore was looking at him with a different light in his blue eyes. He gripped the piece of reading material harder.

Dumbledore waited. He started that conversation with Edward Elric to see what he would say. He was just curious after all. What would be his reaction? There was a possibility of the truth spilling out as well as the possibility of silence. There could also be lies or half-truths. And with the boy on the verge of panicking, it would be easy to pick out which is which.

Where he was stepping, was the boundary of the Gate, the territory of Truth, a place out of this world, where he shouldn't be. But that was what Dumbledore yearned to know, to touch, to conquer.

He just didn't quite expect a warning.

"Don't meddle with things that are none of your business." There was a hidden layer of threat, the promise of suffering, and the taste of despise. Moreover, there was a sense of helplessness.

Maybe normal humans can't see the book. Maybe only Sacrifices can read it.

_No one needs to see the ugly things of the world written here._

That is rotten truth.

Ever heard that ignorance is bliss?

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"Harry will have to master Occulmency. Professor Snape would be the right man for the job, wouldn't he?"

Sirius smirked.

Snape didn't look too pleased. "I would be honored," he sneered.

Sirius looked like he was having a hard time controlling his laughter. Snape glared at him murderously.

Only at that moment did Ed felt that it was a good choice to come to the meeting.

And when he was busy sapping up all the entertainment, Dumbledore finished his announcement.

"I also have the thought that Edward should join in."

Ed immediately snapped out of his feel good moment. "What? Why should I?"

"Ah, I heard from the Sorting Hat that you have managed to put up impressive mental barriers. Your pointers would be greatly appreciated."

"No." Edward was ready to press on with his opinion. He always had the knack of protesting till he got his way.

"Elric, you can use that time to serve the five detentions you owe me." Snape was back to his emotionless old self. But to Ed, he was the target for revenge.

There was a tense, irritable silence followed by a tiny murmur.

"So that's settled. Meeting adjourned?"

Mad-Eye stabbed his stick onto the wooden floor. "Now that that's over, I've been waiting to wring information out of that squirt."

"DON'T CALL ME SHORT!"

"Shut up!" Moody snarled, hobbling over to Ed's chair, jabbing his wand at his direction. "You're far too clever for my liking, predicting Dumbledore's moves. You knew, didn't you? That Occlumency would be taught to Potter. If you were working for Voldemort, crucial information has been leaked!"

"Relax, Moody. It's not like we're gonna be murdered in our beds," Tonks said.

The ex-Auror ignored the comment. "Start by telling us your real name."

"Edward Elric." He just wanted to spite the person. Never thought the truth would do the trick.

"Edward Elric was murdered! You can't play a dead man!" Mad-Eye growled.

"I faked my own death, stupid. Left Germany with an alias."

"How can you prove it?" The wand jabbing at his direction was starting to get on his nerves.

He never thought what happened nearly twenty years ago would haunt him now. It made him feel like a criminal.

"You want a DNA sample or something?"

And of course wizards didn't know what he was talking about.

Alastor looked like he was about to explode. Lupin decided to step in before anything happened. He asked calmly, "Okay, let's say you're telling the truth. Then who was buried in 'your' grave?"

Edward once again acted like he didn't care. "It's quite easy to make a body when you're an alchemist. Do I have to read out the list of materials?" Sarcasm dripped off every word.

"So you created life and ended it?" There were weird stares.

_God, stop looking at me like _that_._

"You can make the body but not the person! The THING I made wasn't alive in the first place. It's just water and other materials put together to resemble me!"

The boy was under much pressure. Ed was sweating, clenching and unclenching his fists. It doesn't matter. The clock struck twelve exactly eight minutes and thirty seven seconds ago. Christmas is over.

"If that is true, then why was he raped and beaten to death?"

There was a moment of silence.

"_It_ wasn't. _It_ was stabbed five times, and 'died' drowning in blood." There was a reason why Ed was acting that way. He was up since six in the morning and now he was tired and _cranky_. "If you want more proof I could show you where I stabbed."

The people in the room looked at Ed like he was a psychopath. But he was so tired. Yes, that was it. Tired of reliving the time when he had to slash the thing that looked like him. Tired of the guilt and torment at the fact that he actually killed _himself_.

He had gone to hell and back. But didn't he know that hell dragged him back. So he was still living in its grasp.

Sometimes, don't you just want to break down?

The first concerned voice was raised above the murmurs and mutters. "Why did you decide to leave Germany? It is your home town, isn't it?"

"I had to. And that was the only way I could without anyone following."

He still looked like he didn't care. And _that _was a mask.

After _that _happened, he wanted more than anything to just disappear. Bu t he couldn't. But erasing his existence was something he must do. So he had to. He did think of how he wanted to die. Contemplating suicide, it seemed laughable. But then he felt that he would look like a wimp taking his own life. So he decided to make use of the pool of blood already available.

At least he didn't have to clean up after himself.

"""""""""

Ed sighed. "I'm not here to convince you. I'm just giving facts. Bits of the truth. Then I'm waiting for the day you idiots can piece them all together and realize the real truth."

Are you inviting them to find out?

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**Hi**

**I'm really tired now, so I'm relying on you guys to point out any grammar/spelling mistakes. Thanks a ton.**

**I miss Al...**

**I was rewatching Mustang these past few days. It definitely shows that the Flame Alchemist does care for Ed. ****Awwww Roy! But it is kind of ironic, right? I mean there's a lot of stuff that he doesn't tell Ed until Ed finds out himself. It's like protecting Fullmetal, but he was the one that got Ed to join the military in the first place. Well, that's how I think of it. I'd love to hear your comments.**

**I sort of want Harry and Ed to have a mentor-student relationship. But I think I'm getting really OOC. But hey, it's fanfiction.**

**Dumbledore knows something's up but he doesn't know what. He's not supposed to have anything to do with the game but he wants to find out. That's partially the reason why he wants to get close to Ed.**

**The last part was really f**ked up, wasn't it?**

**Okay, REVIEW please. Comments, questions, constructive criticism etc. THANK YOU **

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year**

**ssapphireangel**


	15. Reaching Eden

**Chapter 14 Reaching Eden**

If wizards could do a thousand and one things with magic, why couldn't they make transportation a little less torturing? And Edward was finally back at Hogwarts, not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. But he was glad to be away from Moody. Ed swore the madman was stalking him! With the creepy eye and everything!

So, his stomach felt like a rollercoaster. Fortunately Fred and George told him how to get to the kitchen. Ed scribbled on final few inches of the parchment, munching to his content_. (I love my cookies…) _

Ed put away his work, focusing solely on his plate of chocolate chip cookies. He heard someone call him, but he ignored it. Nothing can take away the time for his indulgence. Nothing.

"ED! We're going to be late!" Harry said loudly for the third time. "Snape will bloody murder us!"

Ed stuffed the rest of the cookie into his mouth so he could make a pouting face.

"He doesn't tell me what to do."

"I for one don't want to be skinning flobberworms for the rest of the week so let's go!"

Ed grabbed another cookie from his plate and said in mock defiance, "You can't make me."

Ah, what delight he had from infuriating Harry. But once Ed was done with his cookies, he_ let_ Harry drag him off to Snape's office.

Edward sat on his worn wooden chair in the dim room, dully scanning the books, vials of different brews and concoctions, other weird stuff and whatever the greasy-haired professor kept in the office. Said professor looked horrible, frankly, and he never looked more mean and emotionless at the same time. He explained their lesson briefly, weaving insults into his words. And Harry was clearly not enjoying himself.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," Snape was saying softly. "We are going to see how well you resist. Brace yourself now,_ Legilimens_!"

Ed saw that he totally took the boy off guard. And he wondered how the hell those two can survive hours of lessons with each other.

Then there was much protesting, some cries of pain and very intense glaring. After a few minutes, Ed no longer paid attention. His hands tightened over a certain book that was pressed to his chest. He was debating, whether to confirm his thoughts on Harry being a Sacrifice or not. Hopefully, not. But he needed to know, and proof, but he would be taking a risk. Ed was torn. He wanted to confirm but wondered whether that little piece of knowledge would seriously be worth it.

Edward was jerked away from his thoughts with a slightly louder yell from Harry.

"Clear your mind, Potter," Snape said coldly. "Let go of all emotion."

But he could see anger and utter hate in those green eyes. _Impossible._ He thought. _You're tap-dancing on his last nerves._

The teacher and the student ended up growling at each other. Ed could feel the damn emotion rolling of them in waves.

This was what, the fifth failed attempt?

"Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily – weak people in other words – can stand no chance against him, Potter!"

That hit a nerve.

"That is not entirely true, Professor," Edward said, keeping his voice steady. "That method is merely giving the attacker nothing to find. But the aim we have is protection, isn't it?"

"Are you saying that I'm _wrong_, Elric," Snape snarled. Ed almost smirked at the colour change on the professor's face.

"The concept is there, Snape," Ed said curtly. "If you need to make shields, first you have to clear the area. Imagine clearing the area of your mind. Then start building the walls. The attacker won't know of your feelings and memories." A slight smirk grew on the blonde's face. "But you would never know, maybe you'd need that extra emotion to kick the asshole out of your mind."

Snape could have been smoking from both his ears and nostrils. The lesson only continued when he cooled down enough not to hex Ed into his next lifetime.

At least Harry showed some progress. But by the time the lesson was over, his scar hurt like a b*tch. Ed was feeling more and more uneasy as he saw Harry rub his aching forehead. His back was throbbing as if the sensations were connected. And the book felt like it had been in a microwave oven.

Ed frowned hard and decided: there was no force strong enough on that forsaken earth that would get him to let Harry within a five meter radius of that cursed thing.

"I want you back here same time on Wednesday. We will continue then. And be warned, Potter, I shall know if you have not practiced."

And as if God wanted to spite him, Edward got up, tripped over the table leg and the black book flew out of his hands, landing opened and faced down in front of Harry.

He panicked, wanting to zip down and grab the book. But he wasn't fast enough. Harry got to it first. Ed snatched it back soon enough, cursing and praying that Harry didn't see anything.

But he did look inside.

He only caught one word: **Homunculus**.

_Shit shitshitshitshitshit _Was the only thing that went through Ed's brain. He clutched the book once again to his chest, eyes widened and sweat dotting his forehead. He barely controlled his breathing.

Snape stared at the reaction curiously.

"What have you got there, Elric?"

After a minute of silence, Ed answered as fiercely as he could. "None of your f**king business."

"Clean that dirty mouth," Snape snarled, walking to him and managing to snatch the book away while he was still in a state of shock.

There was a moment with the only sound of the flipping of pages. Ed saw Snape's wand jab the leather and paper.

"Can you read it?" Ed asked, hesitantly.

The book was thrust back into his hands. "No." The professor sounded pissed, much more pissed than usual.

"Good for you."

Snape raised an eyebrow at the comment. He retreated to his desk swiftly, his glare never leaving Ed.

"That insult during the lesson really hurt, Snape." Ed smirked slightly, sliding back into his seat.

There was some flicker in the cold black eyes. Simple curiosity, mixed with a hint of disappointment. "You do not seem like one of those fools who display their emotions for the world to see."

Edward studied the professor's cold and detached features.

"Call me an idiot but it keeps me sane."

Snape folded his arms. "How so, Elric?"

"Hmm, let's say emotions make humans human." A moment later, Ed's face hardened, his eyes flashed seriously. "You might be a spy but you should know that emotions are not something that should be thrown away like trash." Edward dragged his chair out of the desk, laid back, eyes gazing at the ceiling. He softened and said in a low voice, "soon you'll find out that such things shouldn't be taken for granted. Don't wait till you lose them then realize their importance."

"You speak from experience?" Snape asked. He didn't sound as annoyed anymore.

"Hmm…" Ed redirected his gaze to the potions master. "So why do you hate Harry so much?"

Snape took a minute before replying in disdain. "His father."

Ed gave a somewhat disapproving look before letting out a loud yawn. "So what do you wanna know about alchemy today?"

Snape expected the boy to ask more. But Ed didn't care. If he should know, he would find out. Snape's lips curled a little at the sides, his way of 'smiling'. "You have told me in great detail of the usual alchemy in this world which is pretty much useless. Destroying and reconstructing and manipulation can already be performed by magic. Creating gold and such is uncommon but not unheard of knowledge."

The great potions master was asking for more. Just like all mortals, always desiring something.

It would be because of those desires that they were driven. It would be because of those desires that they would have success. It would be because of those desires that they would be led to their graves.

Ed felt disgust, but that is life. He nodded. "All right, what else do you want?"

"You never went into details about human transmutation."

Ed's golden eyes seemed to dim. He answered in an icy voice. "It is impossible."

Snape's gaze didn't falter. He obviously expected the refusal but he planned to win this debate and get the information he desired.

"Then there is no harm of sharing. What are the calculations and the array you used, Elric?"

"I told you before. It was a failure. A mistake!" Ed raised his voice a little, his fists clenched and trembling.

"Lies, Elric," Snape growled. "You said so yourself that you created a human body."

"That didn't count! Besides I wasn't even dead in the first place!" Ed snarled, getting up. The chair toppled to the ground, forgotten.

"Much of magic descended from alchemy. There are more advanced blood seals and soul binding. We can perfect your method…"

"What are you saying? You want to combine magic and alchemy for human transmutation?"

Before Snape could answer, Edward banged his right fist on the wooden desk. A long deep crack appeared on the wood.

"Bullshit!" Edward roared before lowering his voice in a snarl. "Let me tell you, Severus. You have not seen what I've seen and because of what I saw I know it would not work."

"What did you see?" Snape asked, getting up too. He was firm, agitated, but not angry. "Is that the reason why your memories are locked up inside a stone fortress?"

"Do you really want to know?" Edward walked to the professor, glaring furiously. "Then we trade. Memories for memories."

Snape did not speak, his lower lip quivered. "It is not Equivalent."

Ed snorted. "You made the right choice. You would regret it, I assure you. It is much better to see hell _after_ you die, Snape."

Snape was silenced. He seemed to be brooding (moping) as Ed took in deep breaths. He walked back to the desk, his back facing the other man. Then he clapped his hands and fixed the crack that was threatening to split the small table.

"Have you tried it before, Snape?" he asked quietly.

"Almost. Albus stopped me before I could and I no longer found another chance." There was movement as Snape sat back down. Edward gathered his things and headed for the door.

"Thank the old man, Snape. The price of a human soul cannot amount to anything."

More silence.

Edward looked at the professor once again. This time with weary yet spirited eyes.

"Do you believe in God, Severus?"

...

That question hung in the air as the potions master tried to find an answer. It was obviously not a 'yes' or 'no', as if there was no real answer. It was surprising, unrelated. But in the few seconds he pondered, Ed left. And the words could only continue hanging with no closure. It was more of a statement, disdain and pain forced on the single word 'God', telling Snape that there actually is no such thing.

Strangely, the heavy door closed with only a creaking sound. Edward was too tired to notice the footsteps that were hurrying away to the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

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The Golden Trio had arrived a little earlier for the DA meeting. Everyone else was busy rushing homework, which they finished early thanks to Hermione. It was the first DA meeting since they came back from Christmas, and also the first muggle combat lesson that Edward Elric was going to teach.

Ron was still recovering from the shock that _the _Elric, the only Slytherine-ish Gryffindor who seemed uncaring for anything would _volunteer_ to _teach_ them. Hermione was convinced that combat training would be good for them. But Ron was convinced that the only reason the shrimp was allowed to teach was because all the girls were smitten with the quote 'Gryffindor bad boy'.

Harry, on the other hand, was the one who told them to come early, to tell them about what he learnt from his Occulmency. What he saw from the book, how Ed had sort of defended him and actually silenced _the_ Professor Snape and of course what he overheard (eavesdropped).

Edward Elric was a walking contradiction.

"He's trustworthy, I think," Hermione said, but she didn't sound convinced.

"But what about all the things he's hiding! He's a bloody secretive midget…" Ron said.

"Everyone has their secrets, Ron," Hermione argued.

"But he spilled everything already," Harry said stubbornly. It was just this part of his brain that refuses to see Ed as an enemy.

"Harry, think about it, everything's full of holes," Hermione reasoned.

"So you think he was lying?" Harry asked.

No one could answer that question.

"Should we just ask him?" Hermione said weakly after a few minutes.

Ron snorted.

"I think the answers are in that black book he carries around. He looked really worried when I picked it up."

"You can't snoop into Ed's stuff, Harry!"

Harry frowned, messing his hair up in frustration. His curiosity was just screaming at him to find out. And he felt some electric shock when he touched that book. It was drawing him to it, like some living creature.

Hermione was even more worried now. Her senses were telling her that this mystery was one that should stay buried. But what if the secret was dangerous? What if the secret is the key to the puzzle of the world's most dark and feared creature? What if it could serve as something to aid Voldemort, or destroy him?

But there was one thing that she was sure of. "Harry, if we really go through with this, I don't think we'll like what we find."

Harry was about to open his mouth when the doors of the Room of Requirement opened and chatting students poured in.

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Edward came in the crowd, sticking out tremendously. He wore his tank top, black pants and combat boots. And his trademark red cloak was finally back, proudly with its owner, with white gloves and a braid. A scowl completed his look.

Ed needed to be dressed appropriately for physical workout. He wanted to be out of those damn robes but he needed something long sleeved to cover up his automail. Somehow, the Gryffindor red curtains caught his eye and with a smirk and a clap he decided to go with his old look. It felt comfortable, too good to be true, like he was reacquainted with something he abandoned years ago.

No one actually voiced out their opinions. All could be seen was students in muggle clothing, whispering to each other. Girls giggled and blushed when Ed glared at the crowd.

_Weak_, his mind supplied. They were weak, he realized. They were spoon-fed, pampered, spoilt rotten to the core. None of them looked as if they had ever had to lift a finger to get something done, had ever had to do anything for themselves in their lives.

All wizards (the Ministry mostly) were like that. Like the only used muscle in their body was their hand, so they could hold up the damn magic stick. Most of them like never ever needed _earn_ their lives, their right to live and breathe. No wonder they were losing the war.

It made Ed want to spit.

These people, out of all, only a small minority of the adults stood a chance out there. These children had nothing, especially Harry Potter, and he was expected to be their Savior. Pathetic. He pitied them, 'wizards'. Miracles were meant to happen once in a while, not in everyday lives. But Ed knew, as much as he hated to admit, that he cared (only a teensy, little bit) and he wanted them to at least be able to survive in the war.

Ed reminded himself that he wasn't in the military or anything. And that the 'military' the Magical world was hardly a small police force so they probably didn't know a damn thing about a life of a solider. So he should go easy on them. And he was. Oh well.

The Room of Requirement was silent now. Every eye was upon the silent, contemplative figure at the head of the group. The feelings that had flickered across Ed's face had done more than silence them – it scared them.

"Let's start with warm-ups," Ed murmured silently, as if to himself. Suddenly, as if a sudden thought had cheered him, the gold in Ed's eyes were bright again, a large grin gracing his lips. The gathering shuddered as a whole, for an entirely new, justified reason, as Ed sauntered to a crate nearby (_where had that come from?_) and undid its catch. The smell of rotting fish permeated the room, and the assembly paled collectively.

Ed's eyes glinted again in what one would call insanity. "Class, I'd like you to meet Blasty. Blasty, class. Class, Blasty. Now that that's over and done with, jog twenty times around the room. You may begin!"

The scene, from Ed's point of view, was very amusing. Like one of those chasing scenes he once saw out of a cartoon. He began a slow jog beside the Blast Ended Skrewt during round two, yelling at the students who were slowing into a walk.

Suddenly someone yelled, "WHY MUST HE BRING BLASTY, WHY?"

"You guys are lucky! My teacher left us on an abandoned island! Too bad I can't find any of those!" he called back.

Fortunately, everyone survived the twentieth round, when Ed got Blasty to start shooting out well, blasts.

He scanned the panting/collapsed students. A lot of work was needed to be done to those out of shape little princesses. "Now start stretching. We're going to start on our main event."

The class was too tired to curse him, even though many horrible things were going through their mind at that moment. Edward strolled to the back of the room, back facing the now murderous students. He squatted and clapped his hands, transmuting a pile of small stones. He kept his wand out and visible though, to avoid any weird questions.

Ed gathered a few rocks, tossing one up and catching it. "What's the first thing you do when someone shots a spell at you? You shot another spell to protect yourself, right? That's for old dudes who are so much wiser and more experienced. To me, dodging the enemy's spell is much easier. It'll soon become instinct and take up less brain power.

"Now you split into two groups. One group will be the attackers. The other will be the targets. Attackers' goal is to hit the targets. Targets' goal is to not get hit." There was much groaning and protests in the crowd. "Attackers can only use these stones to attack, not their wands at all. Targets can, but defensive spells only. I doubt you would have time to get out your wands anyway. The groups will switch later. Now split. When you hear the whistle, the game starts. If you don't do anything, I'll sick Blasty on you. Get going!"

The game started slow, as everyone was cautious and reluctant, huddling in their own groups and hesitating to throw the stones. But after Ed stepped in with his painful and accurate aim, the room started getting rowdy and the students were laughing and screaming and dodging as if their lives depended on it.

Even when an hour of so passed, it only felt like a few minutes. They were all tired but satisfied with the sense of achievement. And of course it was Ed's job to ensure that heads did not get too big with complacency.

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Ed said, smirking and sending chills down their spines. "Things can get pretty sadistic soon (insert evil laugh). You'll be aching for a few days but after a few lessons, you won't feel a thing anymore. So don't you dare go up to Madam Pomfrey. Then again, no pain no gain, right?" Ed shrugged. "Maybe soon I'll teach you guys how to throw a decent punch, kay?"

As the students left silently, Ed went around the room to transmute the stone back where they came from.

"I never had such fun in a long time. Heh, it's almost like back home when I sparred with Al. He always beat me though," he muttered, the grin still on his face.

The last to be seen leaving the Room of Requirement was a red coat figure.

Ed looked back as the door melted into the wall, leaving no trace that it was there at all. _I could just get used to this_, he thought.

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The space of the Gate was made most efficiently. There were many names for it: Nothingness, Void, Limbo, the White Space…basically it has nothing except nothing, unless you count the Truth. Most fortunately there wasn't anything. As the Truth looked into the world, most importantly at the source of his amusement, his pet, his toy, his human sacrifice, he seethed with anger. If there was anything except nothing in the endless whiteness, it would be destroyed by the fury, smashed onto the floor that cannot be seen.

Despite being so close to Edward Elric, the Truth realized that he could not seem to grasp him and bind him to his side. The Truth was so close to succeeding, but the boy kept slipping away from his fingers, from his cage.

It may be the reason why the Truth found Edward Elric so darn interesting.

But he could not let Edward Elric escape.

He needed the boy, just like he needed Harry Potter. A grin split open the invisible face of the blurred figure. Truth wondered how would Harry Potter act if he was less naïve? Would he be like dear Edward? Or like the other countless humans he toyed with? It's too bad the boy was so protected and he couldn't find out sooner.

Now, the problem was Edward Elric. Truth reminisced. Similar problems like this had occurred and were solved.

If there was something in Truth's hand, it would be crushed to bits. The nails of the arm Truth took from Ed were digging into the palm. The Gate swung opened as Truth stood up to face it.

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Ed was in a good mood that lasted for record time. He didn't seem angry no matter what Umbitch said, only replied with witty comments just to piss her off even more. And he seemed to enjoy seeing the toad's face turn shades of colours he never saw before.

The prolonged good mood was due to the last few DA lessons he had. The students all showed improvement and he began to feel a sense of pride of his little ducklings (whoa where the hell did that come from). Ed had already helped them build somewhat of stamina and the physical self defense had gotten better. Some of them could even whip out their wands for a quick spell. He also developed a somewhat friendly relationship with the students of Hogwarts all because of the few DA lessons he had.

In fact, he was in such a good mood he decided to drop research and go on the Hogsmeade trip for _fun_.

Wrapped up as warmly as he could, he met Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom at the entrance of the Great Hall.

They seemed excited to properly show him around the village. To Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks and Zonko's…

"Ron, where's Hemione and Harry?" Dean asked, as they were going through the shelves at the joke shop. "It's strange that they couldn't come."

Edward prodded an oddly shaped toy cautiously, as if it will explode in his face.

"Hermione said that she had some stuff to do with Luna," Ron said.

"Loony?" Dean asked, skeptical.

"I'd rather not find out. She had this evil glint in her eyes when she said that." Ron was starting to turn a little pink.

"Why's she called 'loony'?" Ed asked.

"Er…she's a little weird," Ron murmured.

"Weird?" Seamus said. "Didn't you see the cork necklace?"

"And she's always going on about Nargles and creatures that don't exist," Dean said.

Edward noticed the silence Neville was giving. He raised an eyebrow.

"Luna's nice. Different but not 'loony'," Ed said.

"What's that, Elric?" Seamus said, a grin appearing on his face. "You like her?"

Neville turned a shade of red immediately.

"What? No!" Ed said, turning away. _She just looks too much like Winry…_

The boys laughed as they left the crowded joke shop.

"What about Harry?"

"He's going out with Cho," Ron replied.

Ed tuned out the conversation about 'snogging' and whatsoever, feeling the gentle breeze that always seemed to blow in the village, and the sounds of feet in the snow. He always liked the village. It was pleasant, warm. It was joyous and relaxing and…

"Look! The bookworm finally ventured out into the world!"

Until Fred and George found him.

A hand was draped over his shoulder, to his annoyance.

"It's a good thing you left school, my dear shrimp."

"We were afraid you would mould in there!"

It only took two seconds for Ed to flare up.

He was busy trying to get away from the Weasley twins who took great joy teasing him. They were laughing and his friends were laughing and they were all children and being childish as if Voldemort and the Truth and the Gate didn't exist. Like cruelty and despair and loneliness didn't exist in the world.

A man lumbered out of the Hog's Head. He was covered in black and brown, a ragged robe over his muggle clothes and tattered boots. The man was burly, wand in his right pocket, and had a dirty grey scarf covering half his face and his hair. He was clearly suspicious with identity hidden. But no one paid attention to him as he walked with drunkard steps, his head held down. The burly man was just a good-for-nothing that gets drunk at that time of the day.

He split the crowd, dragging his feet across the street, right in between the group of Ed and his friends, roughly brushing past them.

"Mr…Alchemist…"

Edward's eyes widened as he dropped his bag of Honeydukes sweets. Those words were in Amestrian, gruff and in said in a whisper to his ear.

The man wasn't drunk. He walked like a puppet on strings.

Edward cursed the man out loud, childishly and fake.

Don't want to follow, but follow. Do not follow and you regret it. So follow him and…

Ed pushed his stuff to Ron giving the excuse 'he forgot he had to do something' and ran off.

He was trapped in a space that was dim, as if the sun had suddenly vanished. Time seemed to have stopped and when he turned around, there wasn't anyone there. He had ran behind one of the shops in search of the drunkard, no, the man was probably not even mortal, just a body Truth was going to use. The man probably died a long time ago.

And they say zombies didn't exist. Edward stopped, panting. He was near some sort of forest. The sky dimmed even more. The breezes became angry.

"What do you want now?" Ed growled in Amestrain.

"So you do remember me!" A high pitched voice called back, with the false innocence of a child. There was a rush of movement and Ed found himself on the uneven ground in an uncomfortable and vulnerable position. He was pinned by strength too great to be human's, facing the huge body of the puppet. It blocked the little light that could penetrate into that area.

The pawn's face was covered, but his eyes could be seen. And they were the more horrible eyes ever, too disgusting to describe. They weren't even eyes, just black holes that bore into the man's skull.

Ed couldn't look at them for they represented the darkness of the Gate.

The pawn drew his wand, jabbing Ed's chin, pushing his head up to meet his 'eyes'.

"You forgot, Edward Elric." The high pitched voice came from the man when he opened his mouth, but his cracked, grey lips were unmoving.

Edward knew what was going on. The same thing that happened in Germany. The same thing that caused him to leave Germany. He knew the ending wasn't going to be pretty. The wand traced lightly down his neck until it came to his chest and dug into a rib.

Ed gritted his teeth as he felt the wand jab his body a few more times. He felt heavy breathing at his ear but it was too cold. He wondered what Truth would want with him this time. The bastard only came to him personally when he did something wrong.

Ed relaxed visibly. Then he'd just have to leave again. No, he couldn't leave. His clues were all in this place; Truth wouldn't let him leave. He won't leave. No, he won't. Truth can't make him.

Why didn't he want to leave?

Ed's mouth was in a hard line. Everything he wanted was right here. Not the clues or the game. They were here and that feeling of belonging was here. That feeling like when he was with Alfrons and that he yearned and craved for.

"You forgot. You forgot. You forgot."

That bastard Truth can't….

"You forgot and got too happy."

That utter complete bastard doesn't tell me what to do!

Anger, hate and utter defiance washed over the area. Even as weak a position he was in at that moment, Edward was ready to give and all out punch in the face and break every bone in his body. Now that the bastard actually had one.

Truth was shocked for a second. Then school girl giggling filled the air, coming from the motionless mouth. Ed could imagine the bastard's insane grin.

"Do you want what happened to dear Maes to happen again?"

Edward's fists actually flew to the man. But they were caught and pinned to the sides of his head. Not good.

As circulation was cut off from his wrists, Ed felt sweat gathering on every inch of his body as the giggling continued, like some paralyzing spell.

"Truth…" Ed growled but it was starting to sound more like a plea. "You killed Hughes…"

"He was taking my toy away. And I needed to remind the other mortals not to touch my property. I need to remind my sacrifice who he belongs to…"

More anger washed through Ed.

"YOU BASTARD!"

Futile struggling. But the vice grip never left.

"The humans may have forgotten. It seems like I need to remind them again. You may forget. I need to remind you again."

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY FRIENDS!"

Ed was shaking with fury. Truth loved to see the golden fire in those eyes. He would love to see it melt into fear.

"I should destroy them all. They dare touch what belongs to me. I should kill them and hang their bodies where the entire world can see. So that they'll be reminded too."

"They're just CHILDREN!" It would be useless. There's no use reasoning with a killer.

"So what?" He even dared to cock his head to one side, like a child questioning. "You decide to be a disobedient little birdie. It is only Equivalent Exchange."

Ed sucked in a breath in a gasp, his eyes widened. He hands were trembling as his mind tried to grasp the consequences Truth stated. Again, he had no choice. His eyes became half-lidded.

"…I get it…so don't…" Ed murmured. He was still looking into the black pools of 'eyes', blankly and without emotion.

Truth hated that look. He wanted to see fear. He wanted to see the utter emotion.

"What was that, Mr Alchemist?"

How he completely and utterly hated this bastard.

"I GET IT! NOW GET OFF ME!" Ed yelled.

No one would hear him anyway. Truth always made it so that no matter how loud he was, no one could hear him.

More giggling. "What am I to do with you? Ne, I can allow your scars to heal, but I can split them apart again."

Ed felt a wash of pain on his back. His breathing got heavier.

"Or should I carve the marks where everyone could see? Or should I carve them deep inside your body so you'll feel them always? Or should I carve them deep inside your soul so you'll never forget?"

There was chilly wind like invisible hands wrapping around him.

Edward couldn't help hyperventilating. He tried to get away from the feeling and the cold. God, it was so cold.

"My precious, precious sacrifice. All mine…"

The pressure was released from his body the moment that whisper turned into the wind. Edward sat up. He felt like if he got to his feet, he would just topple over and throw up. He bit his lip till he bled. And there was that disgusting thought that even those small drops of blood belonged to Truth.

Trying to stop his trembling and to sooth his aching stomach, Ed stared off into space.

His fists were clenched ever so tightly.

He remembered Maes Hughes of this world. He was a police officer from Germany. He had the same face, the same loving wife, the same constant exclaims of his cute daughter. And he made Ed feel like part of his family, especially after his father left.

Then Maes Hughes died in his line of work. Brutally murdered, but they never found the murderer. Not long later, Truth came with that white hot knife.

_Why, mommy? Elicia cried. Why are they burying daddy? Tell them to stop! They can't bury daddy! He has to go to work! If they burry daddy he can't go to work!_

Ed's head was down and he sucked on his broken lip.

He can't believe he caused a little girl to lose her father.

He can't believe that he almost caused his own friends to lose their lives

He can't believe that he almost forgot that a monster could never be allowed happiness.

But he was just there, at the brink of Eden.

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**Hi! **

**I'm not dead! It was just horrible writers block and horrible school. I'm so so so so so so so sorry! Alright, you now know I can't keep with that one month deadline thing. Don't worry I don't plan to give this up and I hope you all are still supporting this story. Now chapters will come up whenever and I hope I won't be taking too long.**

**Okay the beginning of this chapter was horrible to write. Here's my notes:**

**If you're wondering why Snape doesn't scold or take point from Ed for back talking and not calling him professor, its partly because Ed has the info on alchemy that he wants and that because Ed's like part of the Order and Snape treats him like an equal.**

**The middle was the DA lesson, which was supposed to be the most happy part (I think) of my story so far. I got really stuck here, so I would like to thank my AWESOME friend, ****xMemrc, for helping me a lot here! She sort of wrote, beta'ed and gave me ideas for this part of the chapter so I would like to thank her a lot. She came up with Blasty! YOU ROCK xMemrc!**

**Okay, so I sort of ended this chapter with like angst again. I should probably change the genre of this fic. I also thought that part with Truth had a pinch of M-ness, so I'm sorry if that affected you in any way. But altogether, I'm quite pleased with this chapter and my writing juice has been refueled so I'm pumped about the next one!**

**That's it. If you have any questions or comments or wish to correct anything, feel free to review/PM! No flames please. Also, thanks to all those that reviewed so I could hit 200 reviews! I hope you can continue to enjoy my story and review! **

**ssapphireangel**


	16. Poison of Happiness

**Chapter 15 Poison of Happiness**

The Gate flew open and Truth sauntered back into his home of white nothingness, throwing away the human shell, grinning as it dissolved into blood and foam before disintegrating into dust.

Why can't little birdie be happy?

It would be wrong. Birdie was locked in a cage.

Truth sat down cross-legged in his white space, resuming his job of observing the universe. He drew circles with the flesh finger he took from Edward Elric.

"Happiness," he said in a hiss, tracing that imaginary circle. "Would bring hope."

He drove his finger in another circle, then prodding his finger into the space. Poke, poke, poke. Jab, jab, jab.

Hope that birdie would be free.

The action of his finger got more vicious. The menacing smile returned the face of the figure.

"We can't have that, can we?"

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It took fifteen minutes for Edward to recover from Truth's warning, no, threat. The being had full control over his…everything. His body did not listen to him. It felt fear and pain from Truth. His mind struggled to withstand Truth's influence in vain. And now Truth controlled who he met, who he got close to.

He understood it now. Why Hughes died because his involvement with Ed. Ed looked to the man like the father he wanted and one who would not abandon him. Hughes treated him like a son and that fact threatened Truth.

Ed recalled the faces of Gracia and Elicia. He recalled Hughes's goofy smile, followed by his bloody body.

But why wasn't Alfrons counted as a threat? Because seeing his brother's lookalike would motivate him to follow Truth, to continue allowing Truth to manipulate him.

And what he thought were peaceful days, were just time for the puppeteer Truth to wrap his threads around him.

Ed realised he was no different from that lifeless puppet Truth possessed.

And he couldn't stand it.

He was so helpless, so powerless. And there was added guilt as his friend's death was his own fault. Ed's own stubbornness was bent by Truth's will. Ed's emotions had to be bent to Truth's will. Everything that revolves around Ed was bent to Truth's will.

He utterly loathed, hated, and despised that feeling.

Ed limbs were trembling. He gritted his teeth so hard they may be crushed under sheer pressure.

And what he couldn't stand most was the fact that he knew he would just go with it. Continue being a puppet for his bastard of a master.

After all, Ed did it before. He created a wall around him, a wall of detached feelings and lies. He could do it again. And whatever people or things or ghosts he was attached to would be detached.

Just as Truth wanted.

Ed picked himself up, dusting his red coat. His favourite red coat that was part of his being. Well, he'll burn it tomorrow. Ed's lip had stopped bleeding but he bit open the wound again. His limbs were still trembling. Yes, burn it all. Like how he sent his house into flames on 3 Oct 09.

Just that this time, he had no choice.

"Ed." A hand clasped his elbow, trying to steady him. Ed glanced at the figure, his eyes blazed and he pushed the hand away.

"I see _he_ was here."

"Where the f**king hell have you been?" he yelled.

She squatted beside him, with piercing brown eyes bearing into his soul. And that wash of familiarity came again.

"I doubt you want me to explain things right here."

They got up and found themselves in the Hogs Head. Ed managed to threaten a firewhiskey out of the bartender as Ai dipped her creamy hand into her pocket, fishing out a bright red tomato.

And she just took a big bite out of the vegetable as if it were an apple.

"You'd get warnings before things get too far. Then he'll start blackmailing. And if you go beyond his control, he'll replace you," she said in between bites, juice squirting out. As it dripped down her chin, she wiped it with a white handkerchief that came out of nowhere.

"Replace?" Ed said gruffly, slightly choking from the firewhiskey.

"With someone similar or close to you." Ai lowered her half eaten tomato, as if contemplating something. "Every sacrifice's 'game' is different."

"There are five?"

"Yes. Part of the circle. But only one is truly needed though, to stand in the middle of the circle. So the 'games' kill off the other four."

"It's all a ritual?"

"Yes. Truth has everything planned out. You can't escape." And she bit the tomato again. Ed could feel the tendrils of a killer migraine. He swallowed a huge gulp of the burning alcohol.

"What about the other four sacrifices?"

"They are important people." Ai stopped there.

"Tell me," Ed demanded. His only dislike for the woman was the fact she was Truth's pet.

She sighed. "Tell me what you know first."

"Harry Potter is one. Voldemort may be one."

She smiled, looking impressed. "Half right, Elric. Harry is not yet one. He is chosen and Truth will 'collect' him soon."

"Not if I have anything to do about it," Edward muttered, taking another swig.

"Voldemort has been in the game for ages. Currently, he's the only one actually winning. You want to know his game? Become 'Master of Death'." Ai raised an eyebrow at Ed's shocked look. "Don't be too worried. If you win, he cannot. And if you really want to protect Harry, he can never win."

As cryptic as that sounded, Ed confirmed his theory with Ai's words. Yes, the 'maimed soul' he had to collect was Voldemort's. And apparently, it was necessary for Voldemort to kill Harry to win his 'game'. Darn stupid idiotic game, become 'Master of Death' is. Who would want to live forever?

"Who are the others?" Ed asked, after a period of digesting the information given.

Ai thought again, taking a final bite of the tomato, leaving the stalk as she licked her fingers.

"I can only start my 'game' when I finish my job as a beacon," she said. "Truth is biased that way."

"And the final Sacrifice?"

"Why don't you guess, Edward?" Ai turned different again. More sadistic, less gentle. Less familiar. "I place the chess pieces. I am the Queen. Once I pieces are in place, I will start destroying," she said, blankly staring into the distance. The smear of tomato juice was the corner of her mouth, resembling blood. "I'll win the game if I'm the last one standing."

Ed groaned. "Why the hell are you so bipolar?"

"Because I don't remember."

Ed realized that she was desperate. He noticed the tired gleam in her eyes, the bags that stood out on pale skin. And always, always changing of personalities.

"To participate in the game, I cannot have my memoires."

And he recognized those eyes again. The familiarity. How they want to cry but just wouldn't.

And then he realized. "You know where they are."

"You're smart, Elric. Yes, my memories. They're in Hogwarts." Ai wiped her mouth with the now pinkish handkerchief. "But I can't enter Hogwarts. Truth forbade it."

There was the one thing Ed disliked, no, hated. Truth's _pet_.

Ai laughs, a glint in her eyes that said she knew all his thoughts. "Don't worry, Edward. Truth is biased. The situations he gave the Sacrifices made it difficult for them to win their games. But Truth plays favorites. And you're his favorite."

Ed _loathed_ the fact that _he_ was more of Truth's _pet_ than she was.

"So, thank you, Ed. One day I can enter that stone castle and meet the man who holds my memories."

Truth's damn f**king _pet_.

Ed downed the bottle of cold firewhiskey. It is the liquid of happiness. Drink up, and all sorrows will be drained away. He really needed that. Ordering three more bottles, he began drowning, and drowning away his _unhappiness_.

That word was spat out. What was he thinking? Unhappiness cannot be spelt without happiness. And if he didn't desire for happiness, he wouldn't be feeling so much unhappiness.

"Don't emotions keep you sane?" Ai said as if she was reading his mind. She was no longer eating or drinking, just sitting beside him playing with her fingers. "You are already not human. Homunculi will always yearn to be human. So you crave some form of human contact. It is the want to have someone close to you. It is natural."

"Why?" It already hurts so much. And wanting it to hurt more? Are we masochistic?

Ai smiled. "That's because humans are just so…warm…"

The firewhiskey burned and soothed his throat. It is the liquid of happiness. Drink up, and numb yourself to all pain.

Drink up, drink up, drink up.

"Why?" Ed murmured. It wasn't a question like before. More of a plea. A pathetic plea.

Ai looked at him, her eyes shining differently, familiarly. And those familiar eyes suited a familiar face.

"That's the way it is."

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Ed got into huge trouble for returning to Hogwarts late and drunk. He couldn't care less.

The DA lesson was extremely monotonous. It should have been Ed's turn to teach and everyone arrived, dressed in longs pants and comfortable shirts, chatting as they did simple stretches. They talked; questioned, wondered what surprise Ed would bring them. He had always been unpredictable in his lessons.

This DA meeting was the most confusing of them all. Ed came in, disheveled, in a shirt and jacket and pants. The outfit was dull, dark and most depressing, seeing his trademark red coat was missing. He told them to run, and then played the game they played in that first lesson, without any new twists.

He was smiling at first, but then that grew more difficult.

Tired.

Wanting to lose control but he can't. But he was about to lose control.

"Harry, take over for tonight. I don't feel so well," Edward muttered.

"Wha…"

Edward was confined in his little box at the corner of the room. Clenching and unclenching his fists and gritting his teeth and biting his lip, he fought every urge to just shove his fist into Truth's mouth and yell 'enough'.

He was a caged animal. A monster trapped in a cave.

Gentle monster, Ai said. When let out he wouldn't hurt anyone. But they still got hurt.

And he felt like dying again.

Tired.

His back was shredded into ribbons. His stomach was torn out before it was put back only to be torn out again. And his heart, it was ripped into pieces.

Tired.

Okay, Edward Elric, pull yourself together!

Remember. Remember. Remember.

Remember that you are living so your brother can live.

Remember that you are living so you will die for your brother's sake.

It's not so hard. It's like that life you lived before you came here. It's like those days when you had no one. But you survived. And you can do it again.

Ed wanted to throw up.

Getting attached would only hurt them more. And it would only hurt yourself. Then why am I f**king hurting so much now?

He felt sick.

This couldn't be worse than hell. Ed stared at the floor, watching the shadows flicker here and there. He glanced at the people; the humans that he was no longer part of, and retuned his broken gaze to the ground. He struggled to build those stone wall mental barriers. They were cracked.

The world was too loud. _He_ was too loud.

_I warned you, Edward Elric. My caged bird. My precious sacrifice. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine._

"Man, you look awful Elric!" "Get better soon!" "Rest early, Ed!" "Looking forward to the next lesson, teach!" "Make sure you're okay!" "Get well soon, Ed!"

Stop it. Shut up. Ed's eyes leapt from human to human to human. They were all human.

_You will crave human contact. It's a part of being a homunculus. You are something that will always yearn to be human. It is only natural._

Tired.

Noisy.

Help me, save me.

I'm a monster.

Ed jumped, jolted from his daze by a rumbling sound coming from the room. It took a few seconds for his feet to be willed to move. The Room of Requirement shifted, the training room shrinking to make space for the growth of a room. That sound of dragging furniture and vibrating rock, it was as if the room was speaking in its own voice.

The room stopped moving, and the area it decided to make was complete. And there came an answer: the sound of a single musical note.

Edward came upon the dark wood piano, raw and undefined with polished black and white keys. He smiled and snorted in what seemed to be amusement.

But he needed this, he admitted.

The music came first from what he distantly remembered. Soft, hesitant and melancholic. Then they became clear-cut, loud and true, ringing in the room and spreading through the grounds of Hogwarts. Violent, fast playing. It was the voice of his frustrations. He could barely remember what his music sounded like. He just needed this.

I lose control.

I'm a monster.

I'm not. I'mnotI'mnotI'mnot. I'm human. Or I once was human. But I know I still feel human.

Help me, save me.

Tired.

And it all stopped abruptly. Ed stopped breathed heavily.

Why didn't this work?

He could have crushed the bones left in his hand; he could have ripped off his hair and bit off his lip. Nails digging into his skin, forcing tears from his eyes, forcing desires into its shell, forcing feelings into the depths of his cold heart.

It was driving him to insanity.

Because it just hurt so much.

Edward never felt so weak, so small, so vulnerable.

Help me, save me.

I don't want to.

But I need to.

It hurts so much.

Why am I like this? I don't want to be like this! I don't want to be so…so…pitiful!

Edward clenched his fists and brought them down to the black and white keys of the piano. The crashing sound of notes intertwined with the roar that slipped past his lips.

Stop it. Please stop it.

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He took a shower, thinking as the water poured onto his hair and back. He wondered if he should try drowning. But it probably wouldn't work so why bother.

Rubbing his hair in the towel, he sat in his armchair and begun to braid. Ed hadn't noticed until now that he hadn't cut his hair in a long time. And his locks were poking at waist level. His bangs reached an inch below his chin. He would look more like a girl now, darn. It took far too many braids. When he was about halfway done, in a moment of frustration, Ed threaded his fingers into his hair and let it all loose. The golden pooled over his shoulders.

He had give it all up. The only thing he wanted, he needed was his brother. And if letting go was the thing that would get dear Alphonse back, he would gladly do it. He would gladly sacrifice everything.

If only he could be free like his hair.

What was he thinking? Comparison to his goddam hair? What had he sunk to become?

Maybe he _is_ crazy. Ed strolled down Hogwarts' many corridors, smiling to convince himself that he would be okay.

They say you could find many mysterious things so late at night. Luna Lovegood stood by the wall next to a classroom, staring at a corner of the stone ceiling where the cobwebs were plentiful.

"It's late. You should be in bed," Ed said casually before continuing his walk. He would be out all night, probably. There were just too many nightmares he wanted to avoid.

"Gifolinkins should be plentiful in this hour. But I was waiting for you," Luna said, in her usual airy voice. "Figured you'd come out of the common room. It's hard to sleep with the Gifolinkins. They are extremely attracted to negative emotions."

Edward raised an eyebrow. He knew he was rather depressed lately, but he didn't think that people actually noticed. He told them he was sick.

Luna walked towards him, reducing the space between them. She had a fascinated look in her eyes. "I never saw you with your hair down before."

"I'll be cutting it soon. It's getting too long." Edward instinctively tugged on a long loose strand.

Luna pushed the hand that was abusing his hair away.

"You have a nest of Jarinbolfs in your hair. They won't be very happy if you cut it off."

"Huh?"

"They might take revenge on you. You know they absolutely love blonde hair."

"What?"

Luna reached out, touching a lock, before taking and smoothing out a part of his slightly damp locks.

"It's silkier than it looks. Many girls would do anything for hair like yours," Luna said. "Especially those vain ones."

Ed decided not to say anything.

"Can I braid it for you?"

Luna and Ed sat down in the middle of the corridor. It was night, too late for anyone to be up. It would be alright for Luna to braid his hair and no one would see this suggestive scene. But he liked it down. It served as some sort of protective barrier.

She first ran her fingers through his locks.

"I heard your piano just now. Sorry to say, it was awful," Luna said.

"Really?" Ed rubbed the back of his hand sheepishly. "That bad?"

"Yes. But I guess it can be excused, seeing that you're not feeling well. I'm sure you can play beautifully." Luna smiled. "I would like to hear you play beautiful music, Edward."

There was a moment of awkward silence as Ed did not know how to reply. He stared at the suits of armor that were present in every corridor of Hogwarts. They were still, shiny plates of metal that reminded him of Al.

He must have been miserable trapped in that big bulky hollow structure. But Ed knows he would do anything to correct his mistakes. He realized he had been distracted for too long. Focus, focus, Edward. It's time to be serious and start moving forward. Move forward and win the game. There would be no more time for distractions.

Just concentrate on the game and forget everything else.

Forget everything that happened here. Distance yourself, let go. He felt those hands parting his hair and weaving through it. He didn't need them. He had to push them all away. Yes, yes, burn them. Don't need them, burn them.

Just be that shell of a human you are, homunculus, and burn them all.

Not Winry's hands were just like Winry's. She knelt behind him, touching the hair that brushed his back. It is beautiful, that scene. So innocent, like a picture from one's childhood. One by one, one braid at a time.

Chopping of ties while rebuilding new ones. Sleeping with nightmares knowing that there will to comfort him when he woke. Swallowing pain knowing that no one will care if he screamed. Burn everything like he did on 3 Oct 10 knowing that he'll burn a part of himself in the process. Smilesmilesmile but cry on the inside. Burnburnburn until there'sjustnothinglefttoburn.

One by one, braid by braid.

Like how Winry does it and how he realizes how much he likes it and how he wants to go back home so Winry herself can do it.

And it hurts because he knows that that won't happen.

He smiled. This is for you, brother. I will do anything for you.

It still hurts.

I don't care. This is necessary. I love you, Al. So this is necessary.

Quit smiling, Edward Elric. For happiness is poison.

I love you, brother.

"Edward," Luna said. She was done braiding and he felt exposed to the world.

"Why are you crying?"

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He did what was expected: fled.

The only thing that could bring him comfort was that red gold armchair by the fire. Red and fire; close him off from the outside world; protect him from the outside world.

He curled into himself hardened his mind, preparing himself to shun everything and everyone, letting his insides die; bit by bit.

When he woke up again it was because of a nightmare. He was alright, used to visit all those horrible pasts in dreams that came hand in hand with Truth's visit. Ed decided he wouldn't sleep for a few days. He didn't need to in the first place, being a homunculus.

Being a monster.

He skipped classes for a total of two days, detentions and all, making sure _no one_ found him. He needed time to think, sort out his thoughts and emotions, built back the battered fortress that was his mind.

He smiled to convince himself that he would be okay. Edward found solace in the forbidden forest, in the company of the Thestrals. He sat in the shade, leaning against a huge oak tree, on soft grass.

Quit smiling, Edward Elric. For happiness is poison.

_**Child**_

"Arielle?" Ed turned to the Thestral. She was a motherly one, closer than any other.

_**Enough**_

The black skeleton horse nuzzled his right cheek.

_**Child, soon it'll be too late to save you. Please, I don't want you like this. **_

"It's alright, Arielle. This is my choice," Ed said.

_**Look at yourself; you don't even know if you're lying anymore.**_

"I know. It's a difficult decision. But this is what I want."

_**What do you want the most?**_

"I want my brother back. I want him to have the life I took from him."

_**You know of the consequences? You know of what following Truth and the Gate will lead to?**_

"I don't know. Something will happen to me probably and I'll die."

_**Are you alright with that?**_

"Yeah. I'm just sad that I won't get to see my brother live."

_**Is that what you really want?**_

"Yeah."

_**No. Think of yourself. What do you really want?**_

"What do you mean?"

_**What about an actual choice?**_

"I don't need those. I already chose what I want."

_**But it hurts.**_

"Hmm. Not so much anymore."

_**I offer you a choice. It is drastic but know that I only want keep you safe. **_

"What are you saying?"

_**Child, join us. Be free**_

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**Hi**

**Okay, I'm not dead and I apologize profusely for this long wait. And also for torturing Ed so much. This is like mega ultra angst chapter. Also, THANK YOU to my awesome friend Nat for offering to share the blame of Ed's pain (coz some of the ideas are hers). I'm too damn tired to write a long AN so review me comments/questions/etc but no flames please. **

**Also, big THANKS to my readers who reviewed/favorited/alerted/followed me!**

**Kay, please review and I'll try to update faster.**

**ssapphireangel**


	17. Ending Point

**Chapter 16 Ending Point**

Freedom.

Yes, she said 'be free'.

But what is freedom?

The exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc. The power to determine action without restraint.

But those are just words.

Ed chose his words carefully as he thought of the Thestral's offer. "Are you asking me…" he swallowed. "…to commit suicide?"

The Thestral seemed to flinch. But her hardened heart could be seen from her pearly glowing eyes.

**Yes. Change your standing in the System of Life. That is the only way you can be free from Truth and the Gate.**

"But I'm a homunculus. I can't…die."

**Are you afraid of Death?**

Edward didn't speak. His answer was obvious; he had proclaimed it to the world.

**It's true. By physical means of death, you would have to die countless times until your stone runs dry. However, there's another way. It causes the souls bound to you to tear themselves away.**

"What happens to the Philosopher's stone?"

**It would break apart and return to its original state. **

"Alphonse would return to his body?"

**I'm sorry but your brother's body is beyond reach. His soul would go to where he belongs.**

Was there a 'heaven'? Or reincarnation? There was simply no answer to the question of what comes after death. And Ed, if he were to accept the Thestral's offer, would never know. The Magical Creatures would walk the earth till the end of time, being in a constant cycle that has no true fulfillment.

But his brother… "Would he be safe?"

**Yes. **The Thestral said it with so much conviction and certainty that Edward found himself believing.** Truth will find no need to bother him. He would be treated like any other human.**

It just seemed so goddamn perfect.

He found no more questions. It seemed like he had all his answers. It wasn't the best option but at least his brother's soul was saved and…

**This method is to be burnt by the flame of the phoenix until you become ash.**

The method sounded harsh. Edward felt fear, nervousness. To finally be able to die, peacefully, with nothing holding him back. He could let go and finally stop feeling so freaking tired all day. He could fall asleep without the fear of dreaming and the dread of waking up.

**Then I will collect your soul, my child. And you would be with us, as my real child. You would be free.**

Those hypnotizing eyes promised relieve and escape. It was a way from his burdens, his depression and that God. And that thought made it seem so perfect. There was strange anticipation bubbling in his chest.

But he fought the urge to smile.

But it was wrong. A part of Ed's mind screamed it at him, drowning out that scene of perfection and created _doubt_. It was wrong, not because it was cowardly or it was running away from his troubles or it was just plain fear. It was just not what Ed really wanted.

But what he wanted seemed like the same thing: Death.

"Arielle, thank you," Ed said, biting his lip and pressing his hands together, badly wrinkling the gloves. "But I need time to think about this."

**But you are running out of time. **

"It's just that…" He couldn't say any more.

After all, would anyone miss him?

**What would you want more than freedom, Edward?**

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Edward spent his following days thinking so much everything else just went by and he couldn't remember any part of it. His stomach felt like it somehow grew back, just ten times smaller than it had been. He slept dreamlessly. He finished his homework very quickly, simply vomiting out what he had memorized. As usual he spent most of his time reading, but the words flew by without sticking into his brain. In fact, he spent a lot of time glued to a single page, looking but not seeing. Basically, he was a walking zombie.

He always wanted something so badly that he would do anything to get it. Whatever he desired, be it his brother's body or simply his State Alchemist's watch, he always pulled through in the end. And when something was against his morals (the Philosopher's Stone), he discarded it rather quickly. Now he wanted something that seemed so wrong, but he wanted it so badly that it was so damn difficult to just throw away the thought.

It was another night of Occulmancy lessons with Harry and Snape. Edward was obviously not paying attention, ignoring whatever sounds of pain from Harry. The boy wasn't getting any better. Either that or Snape was just getting meaner. Ed stared at nothing in particular.

All this while he hasn't given up. He never really gave up on anything important, he remembered. Life, so difficult to make so easy to take away. So easy to just give up. He wondered how giving up something so important would feel. Regret probably. But he could finally have peace. So tempting.

The book snapped shut.

"There is still an hour left for detention, Elric."

Ed sighed, resting his head in his hands, elbows propped on the old table.

"You loved Lily Potter didn't you? Enough to become a double spy and get tortured by a snake-obsessed pedophile and possibly die in the near future?" Ed said. He had reached the peak of annoyance at the Thestral's choice for him.

"I do not deny it." The Potions Master didn't know where this conversation was going. He never did when stuff like this happened.

"Ever wanted to off yourself?" Ed asked. He tried to make it sound casual, like some random question and hopefully nothing would seem amiss.

Snape looked up from his work. Edward always looked beaten, tired, just more than usual today. His gold eyes, usually full of fire, were dull.

"I am not a coward, Elric."

You want to take a coward's escape? What about Harry? What about all the friends you (reluctantly) made? You don't care for them? You would abandon them? You won't be there to protect them? You just throw them aside for your own goal, you pathetic –

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At the lowest point of your life, the lowest and most terrible, offered with the choice to end it all, would you do it?

"It seems like a pretty good offer, Edward," Nicholas commented, floating in front of him as Edward sat in on the clean white tiles of the toilet, next to the sink.

Or pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move on praying you would not crash and burn.

"What's the difference? Generally, your brother would be saved, just that you would die. The only difference is whether you want the easy way or the hard way to die." Nick seemed to be struggling to sound like he didn't care. As much as he hated the idea, it really did seem pretty good. It would save Ed from Truth's grasp. And how awesome that would be!

"Anyway, my fellow ghosts have found some information!" Anything, anything to get away from the current topic. "It was quite unsurprising, since Tom Riddle used to stay up all night pestering us about the matter. Splitting one's soul, becoming immortal. He always said he was researching for a school project, sweet talking us into telling him how to make a Horcruxes."

Ed gave a fake laugh. Ha! Laugh at Death in the face. "They did not make the riddle difficult for me. It's Voldemort's soul I'm supposed to be after. The man murdered people, losing his humanity, ripping it into shreds. Just like he maimed his own soul. And since he's kind of dead and suddenly people say he's come back to life or whatever crap's been going on in this shitty magic world just means that he wasn't dead in the first place. And he must have found some way to store pieces of his maimed soul like putting them in bottles and stuff so I can go around collecting them and bam, I win the damn game."

It would be better, Nick knew, a better choice than the choice he was presenting himself. Ed wouldn't be like him, bound to an unreasonable master and free. But he hated to see what Ed would become, hated to see Ed go down that path of no return and regret it because he knows Ed and doing something like suicide is absolutely repulsive to Ed, even though it is better.

"Stupid way to achieve immortality. Even I know it wouldn't work out in the end," the alchemist said. "Actually he sounds like some perverted geezer who goes around stealing souls and putting them in old bottles. It all makes sense, why the Truth would want such a messed up person."

"Truth is rather particular about souls escaping death. He would feel deprived of his toys. It's part of his jealous and possessive streak."

"Another perverted old creep."

Hahahaha, they laughed.

Trying to escape, trying to hide, trying to avoid something that cannot be avoided but he wanted so much to avoid it. In the end nothing was solved. And the question of death still didn't have an answer.

Yes or No? It was so simple.

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Ever thought of what you would leave behind? Time to create a list. Amestris was number one. Home that he would never see again anyway. And Winry. But he had already left them behind and moved on right?

Harry was talking about being inside Voldemort's head again, eww. And something about searching for a weapon. Ed was slightly guilty. He did promise he would help with the fight against mind-possessing thing but stopped due to his own problems. Stupid Ed. And what about Harry? He would be vulnerable to Truth's assault and Ed won't be there to protect him like he promised himself he would. He almost felt ashamed.

Should he deal with that first then die? But that would be like following the original plan: winning the game. He should at least help solve the Voldemort problem then die. Yes, but that would also follow the original plan: winning the game.

He was there when the whole drama of Trelawney got sacked happened. He was actually glad that he didn't have to face the old bat during classes that taught about seeing his future that he already knew. Then Firenze took over saying he was banished from the forest and his herd.

"I could always threaten them into taking you back," Ed offered. Firenze smiled. "You know they hate it if I destroy their precious balance that Truth gave them."

"That is very kind of you Edward, but not necessary."

"I don't give a crap on what the old goat wants." Edward sighed. "And I'm already thinking of forfeiting the game."

Firenze froze at the bookshelf. He was sorting out the old Divination books and did not expect to hear such a confession.

"I see. And I have heard from the Thestrals. They are quite thrilled about this matter. They seem to love you very much," the centaur said after a period of silence. "You have the right to do so."

"My brother would be alright," Edward said with a big, fake smile. "And I won't have to do this anymore."

_Because it won't be my responsibility._

"Would you achieve peace that way?"

"Yeah, I guess. I never felt so light, as if all the burdens in the world are gone."

_Because I'm pushing it to someone else._

"I'm only here to ask you for a favor. About Harry." Edward bit his lip.

"Ah, if you're gone he would be the next one targeted by Truth. He is a good child."

"So I was wondering if you could protect him. Since you know all about the game and such."

"I would even if you didn't ask. But it may not be within my capability."

Ed looked a little disappointed. He looked small, smaller than usual, his head hung low and thinking. Turning away from the problem, asking for help. It was all unlike him.

"You really are a child, Edward."

"No. I have never been. I'm just stuck in a child's body. I sold my childhood away when I was twelve."

It was something he had rehearsed for years. People mistaking him for a child when he wasn't.

"But you are pretending that you know what you want. The sign of a confused child. And denying that you are wrong because you want so much to know that you are right. You may be asking for help but you are refusing the support you obviously need to tackle the question of what you really desire. And you think that there is no one to pick you up when you fall down."

And you fall down, down, down.

List of things that you would leave behind. Number two: Harry who would most likely take my place and end up walking to his death and/or destruction of soul and become Truth's plaything forever.

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Edward turned from fake happy teenager into a walking zombie again.

"ED!"

He would recognize that voice anywhere. And he really did not want to speak to it today. He thought he had made a clear cut decision but doubt had poked many big holes in it. He thought he would no longer lifelessly walk the halls, unable to make a decision and subconsciously weigh the pros and cons. He thought he would be free from the emotional stress. But the list of things that he would leave behind was hounding him.

Edward turned into a crowded corridor, hoping to lose the quickening footsteps behind him. He weaved through the students (thanks to his small structure) with great ease. Until he bumped into one of the Slytherin buffoons that always following annoying ferret Malfoy. It was like hitting a brick wall straight on and Hohenheim could finally catch up with his son.

"What?" Ed snapped, hoping to beat the older man in brisk walking and escape another fight.

"Ed, I heard from the Thestrals." Hohenheim was panting in trying to catch up with his 400-year-younger son.

"Who hasn't?" Ed muttered. What did they do? Throw a party?

"This isn't the way."

Ed stopped in his tracks, turning to his father in a snarl. "Who asked for your opinion? And I thought you wanted me to forfeit!"

"Not in this way, Edward!" Hohenheim protested. "There's another way!"

"Maybe there is a need for it!" Edward was raising his voice. Whatever emotional jack that had been built up all transformed into anger and annoyance. And it all ended up to having this huge fight in the middle of a very, very public place.

"No! I would not allow it!" The father looked more desperate than ever. Who could just sit there and watch as his child sent himself to his death? Which father would let his child put his neck in a noose?

"Why would you care?" Edward yelled. He really, really hated this fake show of concern now. If he cared, he wouldn't have left. So he didn't care. So everything was just a load of bull crap.

"I'm your father, Edward!" He needed to emphasize that fact. Then maybe Edward would realize that he really did love him. He didn't need forgiveness. He just wanted Ed to let him shoulder all those weights he carried, to let him take away all the suffering and place it on himself. The father wanted to protect his son. Then maybe Ed wouldn't make such a terrible decision and let him protect him.

But to Ed, that sentence was the last straw.

"YOU'RE NOT MY FATHER, HOHENHEIM!" he roared. "YOU _DON'T_ CARE!"

And Hohenheim himself was pushed across the edge.

"STOP SAYING THAT I DON'T CARE!"

Edward flinched at Hohenheim's sudden exclamation, as if the entire student body wasn't watching this family drama now. The usually calm and collected man suddenly snapped. But Ed soon came out of shock, his gasp turning into bouts of laughter.

"If you cared," Ed growled. "Then this wouldn't have happened. If you cared, you wouldn't have left Mom and Al and I. Mom wouldn't have fallen ill. If you cared, you would have at least written back to the letters we sent out of desperation. You would have been there when they buried Mom. You would've stopped us from making the biggest mistake of our lives. Shit would not have happened. You and I would not become such stupid bastards. Al would still be here. This entire thing would not have happened. So stop saying that you care."

_I don't blame you. I just wanted you to be there and you were not._

Hohenheim, you know you are wrong but you know it had to be done. You may admit that you were wrong, but when are you going to admit that you did not have to do what you did?

He could only watch as his little boy pushed through the crowd and disappeared.

Such a failure. Such a failure as a father.

"Shouldn't you go after him, Professor?" Hermione spoke up in the midst of the silence.

But he was still a father. And he had to protect his son, no matter what the cost.

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Why didn't you burn down that house, Edward?

Even though you technically left for good

You just left a corpse

Were you actually hoping that you could return home

Or did you want to leave a home for you to return to

You and your father

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Hermione told Hohenheim about the DA and how they were having another lesson that night. The Golden Trio made sure Ed was there, and after the meeting he could come to the Room of Requirement and talk.

"_But wouldn't Ed be mad at us? Didn't you hear what this guy did? He doesn't deserve a second chance." "But he does love Ed. And we all know Ed needs him. What do you think of hating your father for the rest of your life? We don't want Ed and the Professor to end up like that."_

So there was some protesting, but Hermione convinced and told off the DA members soon enough.

During the DA, some still threw weird looks as they learnt about the Patronus charm. Everything was trying to be as normal as it could for Ed but people still stared. Especially when they found out that the Patronus charm was so far the only spell that Ed seemed to be having trouble with.

As the bunnies and ponies and other silvery animals floated about the room, the glow seemed to be permanently in the air, filling everyone up with warm, fuzzy feelings. Harry felt a swell of pride at the joyful chatter as the beautiful Patronuses danced about.

"Okay, Ed," Harry said slowly, choosing his words carefully. The Griffindor-that-should-be-in-Slytherin looked upset enough. He didn't want to have a share of the grumpiness that would end up as a million insults and profanities thrown at him. "I know it's not a…good time, but think of your happiest memory. Then the spell would work. It doesn't have to be a memory actually; it could just be something that would make you happy."

Ed frowned, racking his brain. He first came up with embarrassing Colonel Bastard till he pees his pants. That sadly didn't work though. Then he thought of his times in Risembool. Blurry images of him and Al and Winry playing in the fields. Then he thought of first times at Alchemy. But nothing.

Come on, Ed, find something. Your life has not been completely awful.

Then he thought of seeing his beloved brother again. That was a dream that seemed so hopeless now. But if it could happen, even for a second—

"Expecto Patronum."

A familiar shape took form.

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If you could weigh your life on a scale, how much would it weigh? They say life is priceless, precious, so difficult to make, so easy to destroy. That is the weight of a person's life. But what of a homunculus? They're not human, aren't they? Would they be compared to animals which lives are used to feed another? Or are they better, even more priceless due to the number of souls that power its core?

Hermione opted to stay behind as everyone left, to prevent Edward from leaving before his father came down. She decided to do the 'softening' so Ed would be more open and less angry when he did see the Professor.

"Do you hate your father, Ed?" she started. Ed didn't give much a reaction. But his gold eyes seem to darken.

"No." The answer was tired.

"Then you should speak to him, he is your Dad after all."

"No."

"Weren't you happy when he said he cared?"

Ed sighed. He knew he couldn't escape from the Gryffindor Prefect. Besides, he was too tired to put up a fight. "I don't believe that."

_Yes._

"I know you felt something, Ed. And you should talk to him. You can't avoid him forever and it can't be healthy to…"

"Enough, Hermione. I had been fine left alone. I can survive without him."

There was a moment of silence that Ed held. But when he began to leave when Hemione spoke.

"Was it because of him that you became a Homunculus?"

_Shit._ "No it was my stupidity that did that. I don't eat souls though; you can ask the ghosts about that. And I won't answer any questions."

"You don't blame him?"

Now Ed thought something was up. It was weird that Hermione didn't try to pry some information out of him. Maybe she didn't care about what sort of monster he was. But it was unlike her not to be just a little curious. He was even willing to share some trivia about Homunculi and stuff. It wasn't as if he had anything to lose anymore. He would soon be gone.

"Ed."

Ed turned to face the door, where his father stood. He looked hunched for some reason as he walked into the large Room of Requirement. Sad and hurt. Did he hear everything? Did he know that he didn't mean anything? But who cares about the bastard? He should've never come back. Never ever come back.

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Edward remembered the times in Munich. Hohenheim was out working, like a normal Dad, always coming home for dinner. Ed spent his days studying at a local university, always coming home for dinner. Then they talked about their day, sometimes about Al; the conversations only gave Ed more determination to bring back his brother. Sometimes they talked about Trisha, and the stories Hohenheim told were filled with stupidity and happiness, laughter and made Ed thankful that his Mom lived such a beautiful life. And he understood, forgave and forgot that mistake his father made.

Then it happened again. And Edward only focused everything back on how Hohenheim left his Mom, to disguise the more hurtful truth that he was left behind too. Abandoned.

"I guess I do owe you an apology," Hohenheim began lamely. It seemed like a good place, to say sorry.

"You've said enough." Edward was so relieved all this would be over soon. The game barely begun months ago and already took a toll on his mind. He knew he couldn't continue much further. They all aimed to cripple his legs and they already felt so tired from running so long. And it would all end. Pleasant, isn't it?

No it wasn't. It was wrong. Think not of a coward. Think of what you would leave behind.

"I'll keep telling you I'm sorry, Ed." Hohenheim sighed. "But you also deserve the truth."

Ed snorted. "Why? Then why did you leave Munich?"

"I was recruited into the Order of the Phoenix."

"Yeah, you wanted some magic Philosopher's Stone to make some immortality potion, right?" Ed laughed coldly. "You miss having a Philosopher's Stone?"

"I needed the Elixir of Life, Edward." The older man swallowed. "In order to live."

To live a little longer? Or to sustain life beyond its limits? Ed hoped it was a more selfish answer. Sometimes selfish truths are better than real truths. Less painful. Like how sometimes dreams are better than reality.

Hohenheim was rubbing his white gloved hands together. And Ed realized that the man smelt heavily of perfume. The stale cologne was so much more prominent in the room; it made him want to barf. And Hohenheim removed a right glove to reveal frostbitten black fingers. An entire black hand with skin and flesh peeling off and fingernails nonexistent. No blood dripped from what seemed to be wounds and bones that seemed to be falling apart. What held the hand together was something metal but it could not seem to help much longer. Everything was rotting away.

Ed gasped, his eyes widening as something clicked in his mind.

"Without the Elixir I would be six foot deep already." Hohenheim laughed hoarsely, covering up the rotten piece of flesh with the glove. The mood seemed to grow tenser.

Edward couldn't speak. The horrid stench in the air dug into his throat.

"And I need to survive to win the game, Ed."

_And stay by my side?_

"So that you don't have to. And you can live out your life in peace."

_And where would you go again?_

"Now," the man choked. "You matter most to me. You matter, Edward. Please." He seemed almost in tears. "Don't just throw your life away."

_You're still such a bastard!_

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"Expecto Patronum."

There was an eternal glow that spread through the room. Ed slid to the ground, leaning against the mirror his legs stretched out in front of him and he basked in the light. There were no words to describe how tired he was.

First, he was offered a choice. Finally. For once. He was actually given the freedom to choose.

And he pulled himself together.

He chose the easier path, for once. Something that was not wrong and was not right. It just gave him comfort and a form a peace, and he thought he at least deserved that.

He planned to leave behind no regrets.

Then doubt reared its ugly head.

So did so many things he did not want to leave behind.

Second thoughts.

But he was so tired.

Second thoughts.

He didn't know what to do now.

The wizards all had animals for Patronuses. Maybe it was a rule that humans weren't allowed to take the form of a Patronus for whatever the hell the reason was.

Edward's arms were limp; his wand was on the cold stone ground. Eyes dulled. He never felt so happy, yet so sad. It was a bittersweet feeling. Ed smiled.

"Hey, little brother. Never thought we'd meet like this again."

The suit of armor leant against the mirror, sitting side by side with him. It was translucent, but there was not a detailed missed from the form his little brother took for years. The eyeholes shone with blinding light, as if there were a still a soul. And wordlessly, the suit of armor put an arm around him, warm, but transparent.

"You can't say anything, can you?"

Silence greeted. There wasn't even the sound of metal joints, just this weird 'floaty' 'glowy' air that stilled everything else. Like a void.

_Nothing can touch us now._

"Al, you'd forgive him for what he did, wouldn't you? I think I can since you can," Ed said. "But what he's gonna do, I don't think I can forgive him for that."

"I don't know. I don't know what I want now. Everything seems so hard and painful."

"I wish you could talk now. I really wanna hear your voice. It used to be the only thing that could calm me down when I was called 'short' remember?"

"You're always more mature. Maybe that's why people kept mixing us up, right? Ha, I'm the big brother but you're always the one who knew what to do. Tell me what to do now, huh?"

"Say something, Al?"

"Do you think it'll be painful? When I die?"

"I mean like if I do it Truth's way, I'd get you back and everything would be bearable. And you'd blame me and call me stupid again. I'd wish that you won't remember me so you wouldn't miss me so much and do something stupid too."

"Dying the other way would be better. Seems like it'll hurt a lot, getting burnt and souls being ripped away. But it's easier, isn't it? But it's so wrong."

"I don't know what to do now, Al. You were always the level-headed one. And you always knew what was right and what was wrong."

"Please say something, Al."

"I was thinking if I see you again, what would I do? I'd probably hug you, and since you're human again I'd laugh if you're shorter than me. Then I can tell you all the stories of my travels and we'd go to Winry's and eat Granny Pinako's stew. Then I'd force you to drink my milk again. Since you can eat again, I'd feed you a lot and buy you all the food I can find and you'd eat until you puke. Then we can go to Central and I'd make fun of the Colonel Bastard's face and you'd tell me off and Armstrong would hug you till you can't breathe and it'll rain and you'll find some stray cat and maybe this time we can keep it…"

"Look at how pathetic I am now, Al. You better not tell the Colonel Bastard bout this. God, he was such an asshole. But he cared bout us and I know he'd take care of you for me."

"But I miss you so much and I wish you could talk now cause you always followed me around calling me Nii-san and telling me off when I did something stupid and scolding me when I get into some dangerous situation."

"This is such bullshit. Our lives were such bullshit, you know? But we always found some way to get through everything together. And now we're more far apart then we've ever been and I'm such a mess."

"If you could say something now, it'll make things so much better. Maybe I could go on. Keep on walking with my two good feet, huh? I'm such a hypocrite."

"But I miss you so much."

"Hey Al, you always helped when I have to make decisions."

"And I never really told you that I love you little brother…"

"What should I do? If I die, I can't stay with you like this."

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**Hi**

**You may hate me now. Firstly because it's been a long time. I'm really sorry! I'm so very, very, very easily distracted…by other anime or Ellen or Glee and stuff. So, apologies. And THANK YOU so much for putting up with me and if you're still reading this THANKS.**

**Okay, secondly, I've been like on an angst spree here and it may be too much. I have to assure you that this is the climax, and as far as I will go and next chapter, things will get better. It's definitely going to be a happy ending. I'm really sorry if any readers don't like this emo Ed but I think it's necessary like to fall really hard to get back up stronger than ever. If you have any constructive criticism or questions or anything, feel free to review! No flaming though.**

**Ok, thanks for all the support and reviews and favourites and alerts! Love reading reviews so please review! And I'll try to speed up the updates.**

**Ssapphireangel **


	18. Build me up Break me down?

**Chapter 17 Build me up. Break me down?**

**EDITED: 18/12/11**

Edward didn't meet up with the Thestrals as a whole week passed. He changed too; from lifeless zombie to boring student. Running away, running away. But at the same time, he was slowing down, taking a glance at what he had around him. And finding it more difficult to leave it all behind.

He smelt the roses, he could say.

Ed needed that moment he had with Al. It wasn't a real moment, it was just a form of his brother, but he could feel the soul trying to tell him something. Or it was trying to comfort him. Or dissuade him. He just felt warm and not alone. Al hated him, but couldn't abandon him. Al was there. And that moment was all he could ever want and get. It was more than he had dreamt. Like they were sitting on a field in Risembool, talking and pouring their hearts out.

And as he stopped and smelt the roses, he realised how Al would love it too. This school, the cats, the people, some teachers, the cats, the castle, the village, the cats, the things that happened here. Al would adore being a child here.

And leaving it all just for his own gain? That didn't sound like Ed at all.

Ed could imagine it now: Getting Al's body and soul back, bringing him to this world where he could find a family like the Weasleys and be happy, go to school, graduate, get a girlfriend, get a good job, get married, have kids and live his life peacefully.

And he'd probably have no part of it. He would have finished Truth's game and disappeared. Al would forget he ever had this big brother. And Ed would be watching what a fulfilling life his baby brother lived from somewhere in the Gate.

There was a part of his mind (though he'd never admit it) that found that whole fantasy terrible. Tragic.

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It's DA again. And Ed's turn to teach. He had to say he was quite proud of his class. They did have what it takes to survive his boot camp. There had barely graduated from dodging and defence and went off to offence. They looked like they were having fun punching dummies. Ah, little duckies have grown so much.

Ed shuddered, thoroughly creeped out. He must be turning into a pedophile! Oh man, he was turning into _Roy_!

The sound of the door of the Room of Requirement opening and closing in haste caused him to jump. He just saw a small, oddly shaped figure scampering through the students to one Harry Potter. Curiously, Ed strolled over, just to see the little house-elf about to bang his head on a wall.

"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry was grabbing the elf's tiny arm to prevent him to doing anymore self harm.

"She's...she's..."

"Umbridge? Has she found out about the DA?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Yes, Harry Potter!" Dobby wailed and begun trying to cause himself injury.

Ed only took a second before swearing loudly.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"

Then there was a mad scramble for the door. Ed could only see flashed of black and feet and people crowding at the exit of the Room of Requirement.

"Shit!"

Everything was just one big mess of panic and terror. And the next moment, he was shoved into Dumbledore's office.

The usually pristine study looked like it was just hit by a tornado. The table had been overturned and the many silver instruments were on the floor in pieces. There were four figures on the floor, the pink one easily recognised as Umbridge, the Minister of Magic (looking more like a paranoid asshole) and two other Ed did not recognise. The phoenix that brought him here flew over to its perch on Dumbledore's shoulder. Ed could not meet the bird's haunting eyes.

"Albus, why is he here?" Proffessor McGonagall looked a bit shaken and glancing at the people lying on the ground anxiously, as if they were going to jump up any moment. The Professor just walked towards him, stepping over the wreck, blue eyes serious and white beard seemed bushier than it used to. The many lines across his forehead seemed deeper.

Every step closer the old Professor took, a sharp pain jabbed him in the chest, and his instincts flared, snarling at him to kill the man, to get him away and throw him into the Gate.

"Edward, you must help Harry as much as you can with Occlumency, do you hear me?"

Ed nodded, roughly guessing what happened. A migraine had jumped him suddenly and he couldn't seem to straighten his neck. He managed to tilt his head as Dumbledore addressed him, but avoided the eyes of Fawkes had been glowering at him intently. As if asking, 'but what do you want to do?'

_**Be selfish, or you will never be free.**_

What do you want to do, Edward Elric?

Dying didn't seem like such a bad idea. That's because living didn't seem like a good one either.

But now things have changed. And dropping dead seemed like a terrible idea.

"Hohenheim joined to Order to protect you, Edward. And he left for the same reason." Dumbledore's was speaking very quickly now. "Because you have something Voldemort desires desperately."

But Ed heard many, many whispers together with that one clear voice speaking to him. He shifted his foot to take a step back, but stumbled. _**Meddling old coot! Stay out of my business! Get lost before...**_

Harry and McGonagall both looked very confused now. Truth seemed to be implanting thoughts in his mind, but Fawkes was so near, and the Ed couldn't tell apart the voices that seemed so angry.

Did Dumbledore know of the Gate, of Truth? Did he know about the Philosopher's Stone, about the Horcuxes? Was he part of the Game? What exactly is going on in the old man's head, Ed couldn't quite figure out.

"You and Harry must work together. You need him as much as he needs you."

There was something more, something important.

_**You would not need anyone anymore. You would not need anything, you would not want anything, you would not lose anything.**_

Shut up.

_**Betray me and you would belong to them, stuck in an endless loop! You would regret it! Belong to me and... **_

Shut up.

"And what exactly do I need from him, Dumbledore?" Ed asked, golden eyes blazing.

"A Parselmouth." That wasn't it. The old man held no panic or horror for someone that probably just became a criminal.

Ed's back was burning in fire and acid, Truth didn't seemed too pleased at their conversation and as always taking out the anger on him.

"Would you lose yourself, Edward?" the old man whispered. Had he known too? Did the Thestrals tell him? Ed was simply capable of walking away at any time, and seemed like he always wanted to, instead of making the decision to stay and fight.

You always knew I couldn't be that selfish.

"Would you protect them, Edward?"

"I would even if you didn't ask."

Then Dumbledore glanced at the burning golden orbs and turned to Harry, seizing his wrist.

"Remember...close your mind..."

A sharp pain shot through Ed's back as Harry's scar was pierced with exact same feeling. And they both felt something sinister, snakelike, wanting to strike Dumbledore.

_**But you're mine! Mineminemineminemine my little birdie to torture my little toy to play with**_

Fawkes flew off his perch and hovered over the old wizard, its pearly white eyes still boring down on Ed, as if searching for an answer.

"I'm sorry but I refuse."

The phoenix blinked, it didn't feel like a smile or a frown. Dumbledore grasped his long golden tail and there was a flash of fire and the pair of them was gone.

_**You may be a fool. But I see you be the better Truth to be, Edward Elric.**_

And in the white space that belonged to the Gate, Truth was giving it its usual splitting face grin, clapping his hands like an excited child. The games continue after all, the interesting bits 'bout to come.

_**Don't regret it. Our offer only comes once and we will not take you back even if you beg. No regrets. But you will never be free again.**_

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_I want to be selfish._

That thought came fleetingly, in most point of his life it came and went and never really stayed for long. Usually at the points of his life when he was at the brink of death he thought of being selfish so he could live. But that never really stuck. Now, he couldn't figure out why it was so annoyingly stubborn. Selfishness was a nagging feeling gnawing at his chest. And he wanted to listen to it.

But selfishness always led to stupidity. Like the many big mistakes of his life was due to selfishness. Because he desired something no one could have. And he always paid the price.

It lead to pain and lost. And everything would be gone. And he would lose everything again. He would be the only one left.

He hated being the only one left.

So much that he thought it would be a blessing if he for once would be killed off first.

Ed always hoped that he would be killed rather than others die for him. He was always so damn f**king afraid. He was a coward afraid of his own shadow, just in case it might be Pride trying to plant a surprise attack. Pathetic scared little boy he was...

And now selfishness was thrown in.

It led to dangerous, disgusting thoughts. Fortunately that was over but he couldn't help worrying that he would regret it. Technically he was back, always walking with two legs, walking on the original path after getting distracted for a while by phoenixes and Thestrals. Was he a goddamn martyr for doing this again? Did he think he was a hero? The kind of hero who dies in the end for others thus bringing the story to a good but tragic end?

Once upon a time, he wished that he could stay with the people he loved forever. Like Winry or Roy or Sensei or Harry or Luna... And Al, of course, Al would want the same thing too.

Is it okay to dream?

He dreamt of the fights he would face. He would fight with all his might and hopefully everything would turn out fine. There was still a possibility, no matter how small, that he could defeat Truth at his own game. He could...he could try.

Edward sighed, in a good way. He didn't know what to do for sure, but he knew what he wanted and that should be enough for now.

Bet Truth wasn't too happy with that.

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And the next thing that happened was what Ed first expected of the dumb Minister: Umbridge became the new Headmistress of Hogwarts. In fact, when he saw the notices, he was contemplating on whether to laugh at it. He was obviously taking the news much better than the rest of the DA, especially Harry.

"Why are you so happy?" Neville asked. He was the one of the few who stayed longer than ten minutes for lunch, as everyone else went somewhere else to mope.

"Dumbledore'll be back. I'm not too worried; he's too clever to let this destroy him." Edward reached for another cookie. "Besides the Ministry would need him in the future. It'll be funny to see the ugly Fudge Minister's face." Especially when he finds out Voldemort's still alive for sure.

"Yeah."

Ed then realised that Neville's attention wasn't on anything he said. The boy had those doe eyes, and focusing just above Ed's shoulder, to the Ravenclaw table.

"Since the Umbitch is now Head and many, many people don't like her, I know that something entertaining would happen soon."

"Yeah." It was that kind of airy body-is-here-but-mind-is-not voice.

"And I'm going to punch you in the face now."

"Yeah." Ed seriously wanted to do that to snap the other Gryffindor out of whatever lover's fantasy he was having. He now had that foreboding feeling, like he was going to be sucked into something he wanted no part of. Sure, he was quite familiar with that, but this was about affairs of the heart, something he never, ever really thought about.

Ed swerved around, glancing at the Ravenclaw table. It wasn't too crowded, but the dirty blonde long hair stood out, the figure sitting alone and buried in something. Ed couldn't see the face as her back was facing him, but it was so obviously Luna Lovegood.

He turned back to see a slightly blushing Neville, sheepishly looking away as if he wasn't staring but he was so staring.

"What are you looking at?" Ed asked even though he knew that was a mistake that would somehow lead to him playing matchmaker.

"Nothing," the other boy murmured, stealing another glance before gluing his eyes to his almost empty plate.

"Looney..." Ed sighed.

"Don't call her that!" The normally meek boy immediately stood out to defend his crush, falling straight into the trap.

Edward raised an eyebrow, keeping quiet as he finished his cookie. Neville went back to staring holes into his plate.

"Why aren't you going for her then? What the hell are you waiting for, Longbottom?" Ed snapped, getting slightly irritated.

"I couldn't…"

"With that attitude, you might as well get ready to be a lonely bachelor for the rest of your life!"

Neville flinched before gritting his teeth and asking, "Don't you like her too, Ed?"

"What? Luna?" He did not see that one coming. This was a terrible idea. What in the world gave him the idea to jump into someone else's relationship problems?

"Yeah. I see how you guys look at each other. Why are you asking me to ask her out?" Neville commented quietly, drawing back into his usual shell of no self-confidence.

Ed took a breath and made his voice as steady as it could. "I don't like her that way."

"But you look at her like you like her that way!" Neville exclaimed.

"She only looks like someone I like!" Oops, he just let out a secret. Luckily Winry isn't here...

"So you like her because she looks like someone you like that way?"

"I told you, I don't like her that way!" Ed became exasperated, trying to reach an ending of this slowly-becoming-very-awkward conversation.

"Huh?"

There was an anime vein bulging in Ed's temple.

"Just grow some balls and ask her out, Longbottom!"

Then he snatched the plate of cookies and stormed away.

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Edward ended up eating the rest of the cookies in the bathroom as he rattled to Nick about everything that happened these past few days. It was a total drama, what a nightmare. Eating in the bathroom seemed a little unhygienic, not to mention it was the girls' bathroom, but no one ever came in here (he thought) so it was alright (he thought).

Nick laughed heartily and so hard ghost tears could be seen coming from his translucent eyes. The nearly-headless ghost wiped them off with a handkerchief he pulled out as chuckles lessened to nothing.

"No wonder you're still single!"

"Shut up! I don't see any girlfriend of yours about!" Ed retorted, grabbing the last cookie and chomping in a tantrum.

"Actually I did have a wife when I was alive, then I passed before her and haunted her till her death. Strangely, she didn't choose to become a ghost..."

Ed listened to Nicholas talk about his wife in silence. The silver plate was only littered with crumbs and Ed reminded himself to return it to the kitchens. The friendly ghost floated down and sat in front of Ed in the middle of the spotless bathroom next to the sinks.

"Is it okay to dream?"

"As they say, a dream is all it takes."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "Where did you quote that from?"

"Me, of course." Nick chuckled. "I heard you rejected the Thestrals. They were not very happy, I could say. They adore you too much, Edward."

"I was just thinking that I needed to be here." Ed snorted. "They can't do sh*t without me, you know."

Nick nodded with a slight rolling of eyes.

"Then Al would be back and there's Dad... And I can't let them have all the fun without me, can I?"

"I won't let Truth get his way. I won't let the bastard kill me off. I'm going to put up a fight and hope that some miracle would happen and we'll be free and he and the Gate would disappear from our lives forever."

"That's a pretty big dream. But hey, there's so much in life that's worth that risk, ain't there?" Nick said while reminiscing.

_I want to live._

"Hopefully, this won't blow up in my face."

Nick laughed again.

"I can't say you've changed, Edward," Nicholas said, grinning like he was alive. "I would say that when you first came to this school as an angst-ridden person, and I know that was not who you really are but because of the troubles piled on yourself you turned into that. I must admit it was an awful shell you convinced you needed to move on but now the mask is peeled off I can tell you this is the Edward I want to know and love."

"Nick, I..."

The ghost just went on uninterrupted. "So technically you changed, and then reverted back into your original person, but a better person, a stronger person."

Ed chuckled, like he had been laughing everyday of his life.

"Just look at you!" Nick exclaimed. "You're smiling, but not those half-hearted fake ones. And you talk to people now. And flaunt that red cloak everywhere."

The golden haired alchemist then examined himself, realising that he did have his trademark red clothing, not remembering that he put it on in the morning. It seemed so natural on him anyway.

"And good for you, Edward!" Nicholas cheered. "I wanted to know that before I led you further into the 'game'."

"There's more?" Edward groaned, but seemed curious and anticipative.

"Of course. You would find out sooner or later, that is, the Truth of Truth."

Golden eyes widened.

"Nobody knows how long Truth has been the guardian of the Gate, Edward. And we can't say he's been there forever and we're asking where he came from. Truth doesn't know that itself because it belonged to the Gate for as long as it can remember. Soon, manipulating humans became less entertaining. So it created the homunculi which served as some form of fun for it. Now it's bored again." Nick's tone was grave and of course, there was more to it. "It wants the one thing it never had: To be free of the Gate permanently."

Ed bit his lip, remembering the human shells Truth used to torment him. "Truth can leave the Gate but it needs a body, right?"

"Yes. But that's only temporary. The Gate would always pull it back. The Gate needs its guardian. It needs Truth." Nick took in a breath (which was unneeded since he was a ghost, it was just for dramatic effect). "So obviously, to be free of the Gate completely, Truth needs a replacement."

Ed gasped. "A new Truth?"

"Precisely. Thus the Game serves to find a suitable body for the Truth to escape the Gate. And to find a new Truth."

Ed looked like he was in extreme shock. He took a minute to absorb the information and another for the shock to be converted into anger.

"That f**king bastard," he growled. "Thinks I'm just something to be used. I'll f**king punch him into his own f**king Gate." That ended in a snarl and Sir Nick hovered a few inches away.

"That's what he's planning," he concluded. "The Game is just a ritual. You know he's like a puppet master and he's going to make this his best, final show."

"The f**k I'm going to let him."

Nick sighed as if he just let go of a heavy boulder. He smiled, with certainty. "That's the spirit, Edward!"

No more doubts, right? Just dreams.

"You mentioned Voldemort being the maimed soul you're searching for? Well, the clues are right in this bathroom. Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets?"

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Dreams and reality are so different.

Reality became annoying, especially when Umbridge was conducting one to one 'interviews' with the students to find out about Dumbledore's whereabouts like he would be stupid enough to tell anyone here. She sweet talked him, telling him to drink his coffee and obviously he didn't and he came up with a gazillion witty comments that made her face blow up and change into unimaginable shades of purple. She was bolder now, and her eyes were more extended around the school. Snape's 'detention' turned risky, especially when Harry was there and they couldn't afford to get him into even more trouble.

Dreams on the other hand, Harry was having quite some trouble with his dreams.

As Harry's detention was at night, Ed just snuck out a little later to avoid suspicion. It worked a few nights before, but Harry wasn't making any progress. He just seemed unfocused and was not practising and Ed was doing his best to help but was getting quite impatient. Snape was worst, he made each lesson seem like a torture session with Lord Voldy. He was going to pop an artery at this rate.

Reality then turned amusing, since Fred and George decided to have a fireworks spree.

At night Ed practically skipped to 'detention'. He just felt like he could move on with nothing stopping him. No obstacles. Like one of his legs wasn't metal but flesh.

He shut the door of the dim Potion Master's office. Now that he thought about it, it looked like a mad scientist's laboratory.

"Severus?"

Both Harry and Snape weren't there.

And there were little shivering glow at the worn out desk. A Pensive, sitting innocently on the desk, filled to the brim and swirling with memories. Mostly Snape's but some his own. They had mutual respect with each other, and some degree of trust, and mixing memories was just for convenience. They both got each others' backs after all.

Neither one of them suggested the idea in the first place. Ed was just examining the Pensive, wondering about its properties and wanting to try it out and Snape obliged. It was as simple as that.

"Harry?"

Ed peered into the bowl, hoping there was nothing in it except thoughts and swirly light.

"_...Mom?"_

"_...Ed...Al..."_

"_NI-SAN!"_

Heavy breathing. Wheezing. Hyperventilating. A heart, struggling to keep beating. A horrible squelching of blood and organs.

"_This wasn't what I wanted!"_

"_AL! Alphonse!"_

The sound of metal slamming onto the ground.

"_Give me back my brother!"_

"F*ck."

The door was open and Snape slammed it shut. He stormed in, pushing Ed aside and reached into the Pensive to grab and pull out Harry who was a white as a sheet.

"Get out, get out, I don't ever want to see you in this office again!" Snape bellowed and Harry hurled himself out of the room, taking a glance at Ed. He put on that emotionless face that seemed more frightening.

"The nerve of that brat!" Snape snarled. "Just like his father, the arrogant..."

"It was pretty stupid to leave that lying around."

Ed finally spoke, walking over to the Pensive using a glove hand to sieve through the white lights. He seemed rather calm, he thought he would let Snape blow his temper first then go find Harry later and to scream at. But he thought that he used the Pensive to store his worst memories, like he wanted to throw them away. And was that the use of the Pensive? To take away the memories he hated just like that?

"Ha, this does show like we're running away from our own memories." Ed scooped up a few silvery threads, watching them dissipate into the air. "And gives anyone a reason to use them against us."

Snape growled and took his seat at his desk, frustration still evident in those coal-like but not warm eyes. "I am not that foolish, Elric."

Ed finished emptying out his memories from the Pensive, seeing each one of them, each one of the mistakes in his life.

"I know. It's not like it's going to reveal your position as a spy. But it shows that you still love her," Ed said and too took a seat, on his small table that was about to break apart. "Harry's Mom."

Snape remained silent. He never did say anything when this topic was brought up. He just marked the stack of essays.

"Won't she be upset seeing you like this?" Ed asked. "Spending the rest of your life mourning for her and putting yourself into dangerous situations and lying to everyone just to keep your identity secret and killing just to keep your role as a spy and ending up dead in some ditch?"

Silence.

"Isn't time to move on? Stop teaching, buy a beach house, get fifty cats, volunteer at an animal shelter, grow bald, spit on children and die in your sleep out of old age?"

"I might consider your generous offer, Elric," Snape finally sneered.

"If I do survive the war."

Ed flashed a smile. "I was thinking of surviving too. I'm going home with my brother."

_**Enough dreaming, Mr Alchemist.**_

Ed felt his air supply being cut off.

_**You've been a naughty little birdie.**_

He didn't realise he had fallen off the table, panting on fours. His head felt like every strand of hair was slowing being pulled out of his skull. He was sweating, for sure, but he felt like his sweat became blood. This was like when he was in the Gate; knowledge being crammed into his skull and pieces of brain being ripped out.

"Elric!"

_**Didn't I warn you?**_

And now his back was being ripped apart. Like a knife carving into his flesh, slowly, slowly. And white hot, digging into his bones but careful to avoid the vital organs. And it was stabbed in the place he knew it would hurt the most.

Snape couldn't figure out what was happening. It was like an alchemic reaction, with red sparks of lightning surrounding the blonde teen who was clearly in great pain. He could see red lines creeping on the bits of skin he could see, marking him. But he wasn't bleeding.

_**You would always have to hide. You won't ever be free.**_

Ed wanted to puke. And his eyeballs were about to roll to the back of his skull. He could feel the Philosopher's Stone inside of him, the billions of souls trashing in some form of rage. Something was about to burst out of his skin, and his blood and remains would be splattered in this room. He was filled with fear, with terror but he kept reminding himself that no emotion would affect him. And nothing would keep him from moving on. Nothing would get him to look back again.

Truth was making the Stone do this. Giving him painful thoughts, making his nightmares into reality.

_**Don't you dare think about escaping again!**_

_**Don't you dare think that you can defy me!**_

_**Don't you dare think that you don't belong to me!**_

But

"You can't bring me down."

"I won't let you."

"You won't win."

Truth's usual smirk turned into a frown in a blink of an eye. A sinister, twisted frown. And its flesh hand that was stolen from Edward clenched into a fist, battered, uncut nails digging into dry skin, wanting to hurt, to tear.

Ed couldn't breathe as if he was strangled; choking as if hot liquid was stuck in his windpipe. Then everything stopped, as if the strings were just cut, turning into a lingering sensation in his gut. Ed tried to get up, but his stomach-that-wasn't-there gave a jerk and he vomited violently, blood, cookies and other bodily fluids.

_**We'll see, Mr Alchemist.**_

And Ed coughed once or twice, the fire in his eyes undying. He wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand and struggled to his feet, refusing any help from the shocked Professor. He swore to himself that he wasn't going to take sh*t from anyone anymore.

"We'll survive, Severus. My brother would love to play with your cats," Ed said with a smirk.

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Build me up.

And you won't ever break me down again.

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**Hi**

**Okay, finally, after all that hurt, here's the comfort. I hope I didn't confuse anyone in this chapter. I hope that I did Ed justice, with his emotional rollercoaster and all, and he's still in character and stuff. I'm thinking of doing lots with him and Snape's somewhat friendship and stuff. I'm using the Order of the Phoenix book for reference, but I'm not following it strictly. And I'm sorry to say that this book is ending soon and I'll finish this fic in a few chapters. Just wanted to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who has been following this story and enjoyed it. And thanks for all the alerts and favourites and reviews; they really kept me going for quite a while And also thanks to my friends Nat and Pam for listening to my whining when I don't have inspiration and providing me with emo music. Okay, so there'll be a sequel, more details later, in general this is like part of a trilogy that happens in the last three Harry Potter books. Okay, if there're any questions, please leave them in the reviews, and no flames as usual. Thank you **

**Review lots please **

**ssapphireangel **


	19. Cancel Out Fear

**Chapter 18 Cancel Out Fear**

Severus Snape looked whiter than usual, which was quite an accomplishment. And he was shocked (not afraid), half expecting Elric to turn into a werewolf, and barely managed to keep his face stoned like always. The red lightning disappeared when Ed began puking all over his office floor, but the red markings were still there, barely avoiding the teen's now greenish face, just touching his chin that vomit was dripping from. But Snape decided that it was safe to touch him, and tried to help him up, and he rejected the help to stand on his own.

"What is going on, Edward?" the Potions Master demanded. He had been avoiding asking any questions that deemed to be more to the personal side. Mainly because he didn't want to be a nosy scumbag like some people, but also because there would definitely be Equivalent Exchange going on.

Then again, what did Edward Elric not know about his life?

"What do you think, Severus?" Edward spat. _Do you think I'm a monster now?_

Snape's eyes widened, seeing that simple fear of rejection. Rejection that Elric would of course brush aside. But Snape himself had always been an outsider, rejected, and that gave him no right to reject others. Especially not the one person who knew and understood him, for once. And it was not the half hearted I-want-to-manipulate-you understanding that Albus gave him.

"I think an explanation is required," Snape said, whipping his wand to clear the mess on the floor. "And if it's a long story, Edward, we have all night."

Ed smiled, huffing slightly. He climbed on the table again, it creaking under the weight of his automail, and sat cross legged on it. Surprisingly, the wooden legs didn't give way, and the table didn't break, only managed to support him.

"Once upon a time, there was this bastard..."

"Charming, Edward."

"Don't interrupt me! So the bastard decided he was bored and let lose Homunculus, seven homunculi, to mess up my country."

Ed did reveal everything, about Truth, about the Philosopher's Stone, about the Game and the Gate. He didn't tell a single lie (when he did Snape realised it and docked house points) and surprisingly the Head of Slytherin took the news rather well. Ed decided to believe that Snape was flipping out on the inside.

"So everything was more or less the result of many, bloody mistakes," Ed growled in the end, ripping off his soiled gloves and dumping them beside him. His eyes widened at the state of his hand. No, the automail was fine. But the fleshy pink skin of his left palm was covered in crimson ink that coiled around the wrist and fingers precisely, resembling an alchemic circle. Slightly horrified, Ed shoved his sleeve away, glaring intently as his eyes scanned and memorised those familiar markings.

"I have seen that array before, just not as intricate," Snape said, peering.

"It it the circle to create a Philosopher's Stone," Ed replied quietly, pulling down his sleeve to hide the repulsiveness. To remind him that he wasn't human and of all those human sacrifices used to make one terrible mistake. He could feel the souls bubbling under his skin, seething.

"Magic was used to make the Stone, Edward. No lives were used unlike the Stone you depicted."

Edward grunted, clapping his hands to clean his gloves, slipping them back on. He was still hiding, wasn't he?

"It bears resemblance to a Human Transmutation circle," Snape said before turning away to take his place behind his desk. He continued picking up whatever he was working on.

"It's a good thing that old man stopped you before you did something you'd regret forever." Ed had a steely gaze. "You'll gonna have to get Harry back here soon enough. He needs those Occu-whatever lessons."

"As if I would let the arrogant brat back into this office," Snape spat, crumpling the poor piece of essay.

Ed thought Dumbledore might have expected something like this to happen. Maybe that's why he also told Ed to help Harry out before he left. And there was probably some catch to the Parselmouth thing. Why would he need a Parselmouth? Was there some snake he needed to converse with? No, none that he could remember, snake weren't really his type of pet. Besides Ed couldn't think of anything a little alchemy couldn't solve. This just proves Albus Dumbledore knew something. Edward pictured the manipulative smile and twinkling eyes. He just wanted to make that crooked nose more crooked, possibly permanently broken.

Edward crossed his arms and bit his lip. "I need a favour, Severus." His brow furrowed. "I want to know what's going on in Dumbledore's head."

The Potions Master didn't look up from his work, answering in an uncaring voice. "And you expect me to know what the old coot's thinking?"

"You're his most trusted spy. He should tell you some of his plans."

"I beg to differ. He keeps most to himself, saying something about not putting all the eggs in one basket that dangles off the Dark Lord's arm. On which I do on his orders." Ed tasted the slight irritation.

"Then you could lend me some of those eggs, couldn't you? On Equivalent Exchange, of course."

Snape finally looked up, cold, calculating eyes holding some sort of spark of curiosity. "What do you have in mind, Elric?"

"Let's say the time when the old bat decides to sacrifice you for the better good; I swear I'll be there to save your ass." Just to add more drama (as if there weren't enough), Ed gave a determined glance raising his right hand to pledge.

"Charming, Edward."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Whatever tidbit of information he has could help me win the Game, Severus," he said very seriously. "I told you, I will end this. I will punch Truth in the face. I will get my brother back. And we will go back home to our world together. Whether the bastard likes it or not." Ed smirked. "And he probably won't like it."

Snape had a look of approval in his eyes, along with relief, though his face remained stoic. His hands filed through pieces of parchment at his desk. "I would rather not see your body at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower," he drawled.

Ed snorted. "And I would rather not see yours transfigured and buried in the Forbidden Forest."

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Harry Potter was avoiding Edward Elric. At first, it was out of shock and terror. That thing that was lying on the ground with its wheezing and bleeding, the screams the lightning; and Edward saw that when he was so young. Harry felt very fortunate all of a sudden. He could feel all of Ed's thoughts, his pleas and cries for his mother and his little brother. The fear and the despair. It was a horrific nightmare of the past, he saw.

Then, Harry realised that Ed had lied to him. His arm and leg wasn't taken because of a war. It led to suspicion; if that fact was a lie, the entire story could be just one big bluff. He thought that Ed was just thinking for him, so he won't have to know the whole terrible truth. And he would be glad that he didn't find out. But he didn't like the fact that Ed had so many, many secrets. But even so he decided that he didn't want to know anymore.

Curiosity really got the better of him. Right after all those selfish emotions were gone, Harry felt guilt replace them. And it was much, much more heavy, the guilt. He tried to apologise to Edward, he really did. He practically stalked the golden haired boy for a few days; busy plucking up his courage to say he was sorry for looking into something he had no right to look into. But Edward was plain out ignoring him. He evaded Harry, giving him that cold demeanour like the start of the year and that only added to the pile of guilt.

Harry really wanted Ed's forgiveness. He had become one of Harry's irreplaceable friends. So no matter what demons he had, Ed could be trusted, now and in the future. Whether he was human or not, or had whatever horrible past or not, or was a homunculus or not, or did anything bad or not, Harry trusted Ed as a friend.

So, with Occlumency and the Department of Mysteries and some sort of weapon and Career Advice and Quidditch and whatever, Harry thought that he might fall into permanent depression, just right before OWLs. He had to fix this somehow, at least fix the problems he had the power to fix.

Then came Fred and George's amazing escapade, which really lightened up the mood. For now, Harry pushed everything to the back of his mind as he mentally laughed at how the pink toad blew up as fireworks decorated the boring classrooms. He spotted Ed attempting to land a hand, which resulted in a particularly vulgar firework that caused Umbridge's face to turn unimaginable colours.

As OWLs drew nearer and Quidditch games were more exciting than ever, new players and all, Hagrid suddenly needed Harry's help, and a giant half-brother had everything to do with it.

Edward was avoiding Harry on purpose. He hated judgements and labels, and couldn't give a damn either. And he couldn't give a damn about rejection either. Maybe it was because of sympathy; how much he hated that. Maybe he just didn't want to deal with nosy Harry Potter right now.

He was pretty pissed off. He took some time to sort out his priorities though. Firstly, he really needed to resolve things with Harry and finally teach the boy to properly shield his mind. And he had to start planning on theories/conspiracies to best Truth. And he had snooping of his own to do, in the Chamber of Secrets.

"It is this sink, I am sure," Nick said, pointing a ghostly finger at the ordinary looking toilet object.

Ed scratched his ink before taking a step forward, leaving his floating friend looking at him quizzically. He spotted the specially engraved snake at the tap immediately, taking a breath before clapping his hands together

Neon blue lightning cackled, forcing the sink to be moulded away, analysing, destroying and reconstructing every molecule of concrete, ceramic and metal. The mirror and pipes were deformed as they revealed the secret hole in the ground that lead to the infamous Chamber.

Ed made a sound from his throat, raising an eyebrow and jumping in without a second thought.

There were bones, dirt and dust. The dim tunnel smelt of rust and mould, damp and disgusting. There was there ominous drip, drip, drip of water, a seemingly cliché warning really. Ed felt the crunching beneath his boots, using his wand as a source of light. He merely gritted his teeth at the sight of skulls and ribs that littered the ground, wrinkling his nose at the black brick walls and ceiling. He could feel the unclean taste of death at the tip of his tongue. It looked like some sort of feeding ground. There was even what used to be a blockage of rock when the walls collapsed, possibly a remnant from someone's past endeavour here. Ed cringed at the crumbling shed skin of a really, really, really large snake. The huge pipe met a dead end, locked like a round metal vault and decorated with snakes that seemed alive. Some sort of secret lock thing, but Ed held his wand in his mouth and clapped his hands together.

Someone really put in a lot of effort designing the stinking Chamber, Ed thought, and that person probably had an unhealthy obsession with snakes. F**king great. Ed felt almost glad when he saw the almost fully decomposed skeleton of the enormous Basalisk. There was that awful odour but Ed stood at a distance, observing the carcass for a minute, feeling slightly impressed by Harry and really confused. What was he supposed to find in this dump?

"I've heard, Edward," Nick said, swallowing painfully. "That Ginny Weasley was lured into the Chamber while being possessed by some diary before Harry saved her."

Ed jumped slightly. The ghost had been so silent that Ed thought that he stayed behind in the bathroom. Well, Nick looked a bit paler than usual, almost blending in with the surroundings.

"Yes, Harry told me before." Ed rubbed his chin, thinking. "He said that it was a memory of Voldy that was stored in the diary that possessed Ginny and the creeper wanted to steal her life force or something."

"Ah, that was probably no mere memory," Nick said, solemnly. He seemed more uncomfortable by the second, slowly backing to a wall.

"He also said that he stabbed the diary with a Basalisk fang and young Voldy died, rescuing Ginny." Ed began walking around the area, avoiding the Basalisk, peering from the ground to the sculptures to the ceiling, wanting to find something. He came back to where Nick was, frozen on the spot slightly trembling.

"It's gone. There's nothing here," Ed growled. "Harry may have killed the Horcux."

Nick barely nodded, glancing at the exit.

"It may be gone, that bloody piece of soul." Ed smashed his fist on the moss-covered wall. "What is that bastard thinking? Leading me on this f**king wild goose chase to find nothing! How am I supposed to get the whole damn soul when bits and pieces of it may already be f**king dead!"

Nick made a choking sound that could be a cough. "Could we discuss this outside of this place?"

Ed sensed his friend's distress was more to it than just a phobia of dark, evil places. His anger quelled immediately, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and began walking. "Yeah, sorry," he muttered. "Let's go, this place is disgusting."

Nick sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. I hate that thing, even though it's dead. It petrified me once, you know. Not the best experience a ghost could have."

Ed chuckled softly and sighed. "Coming down here was a complete waste of time. I just need a look at that damn diary; Harry said he gave it to Dumbledore. The old coot found the perfect time to disappear to god-knows-were!"

Nick laughed lightly at Ed comically attempting to pull out his hair in frustration.

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There were all sorts of drama crammed into the week of OWLs. There was Quidditch, which Ed didn't give a damn about. And he did study for OWLs, it wasn't much of a challenge. But mostly he tried to research about Horcuxes. Note the word tried; he couldn't seem to find a bloody thing about them in the library. Even as he happily used his free pass without limits, there was barely a thing about Horcuxes.

And he didn't see much of the Golden Trio after they appeared in front of the Forbidden Forest looking dishevelled and traumatised with an injured Hagrid. They didn't talk much as if some imaginary distance was put in between them. Especially with Harry.

Then Hagrid disappeared too, right in the middle of exams. That was the start of everything that went downhill. Ed couldn't help feel more loath for the Umbridge; he was more than hundred percent sure it was all her doing. The woman discriminated against half-humans as if they were lower than animals, was the worst kind of ass-kissing Ministry dog and loved to torture children. That's like the entire world's evil come together in one toad shaped woman. Ed sighed as he closed the library book.

He had been spending too much time in the library, in the same chair and the wooden furniture would soon be moulded into his butt. He felt the need to start some action. Whether it was to overthrow the Headmistress or to talk to Harry, he had to do something. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was definitely going to happen. And those senses had been honed through the years; they couldn't be wrong now. He had been using the excuse that school life was just so busy for all students, examinations and all.

Ed sighed again, standing up with the conviction that he needed to talk to Harry, no matter how painful it might be (especially for the latter). He walked briskly through the first-floor corridor, a determined scowl on his face.

"...to the Department of Mysteries, so we can rescue Sirius!"

_What the hell?_

"You don't get it! I'm not having nightmares, I'm not dreaming! Why'd you think all the Occlumency was for, why'd you think Dumbledore wanted me prevented from seeing those things? Because they're REAL, Sirius is trapped, I've seen him. Voldemort's got him, and no one else knows and we're the only ones who can save him..."

_This is not good... And half the castle can hear him by now, the idiot..._

"IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GONING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN..."

"SHUT UP!"

The Golden Trio winced at the voice that managed to be way louder than Harry's. The classroom door flew open and Edward stormed in, his signature glare aimed at them. Ginny followed, looking curious, followed by Luna who looked as though she had drifted in accidentally.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked.

"Never you mind," Harry snapped.

"Please, we heard everything through the door," Ed snorted. "And besides, what you saw may not be real. That's the reason why Dumbledore sent you to Occlumency. So you won't fall prey to whatever mind trap Voldy has in store."

"I KNOW WHAT I SAW!" Harry bellowed, getting seriously frustrated at how no one seemed to believe him. "Look what happened to Mr. Weasley! We have to go now!"

"Harry, please," Hermione said desperately. "Let's check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London..."

"Sirius is being tortured NOW!" Harry shouted. "We haven't got time to waste."

This was not helping Ed's migraine.

"If you yell one more time," Ed snarled. "I swear I'll strangle your vocal chords out of you." Everyone did begin to tone down, angry Ed was not a pretty picture and they were sure he could be as sadistic as he described. Ed sighed and said in a level voice, "Look, Black would want you to play safe before you take any risk. You're the actual target Voldypants wants. We gotta make sure it's not a trap or you may end up endangering yourself and your friends who'd definitely go with you. Besides, Black is no damsel in distress."

Harry gritted his teeth. "Ok," he said. "How're we going to check?"

"We can floo," Hermione said. "Using Umbridge's fire."

Ed stuffed his hands in his pockets as the group of six headed down the corridor leading to the room of pink death, with great anticipation. He smirked, thinking of using alchemy to destroy the disgusting office after they used the fireplace. After all, they would need to get rid of the evidence.

Harry cooled off enough, taking a glance at the blond boy walking beside him. That grin was slightly intimidating, though he was actually relieved that Ed didn't seem too angry about the pensive issue.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Ed raised an eyebrow, quizzically.

"About looking into the...pensive."

Ed sighed. "You shouldn't stick your nose into things that are so obviously personal, Harry. Cause I'm the one who had to deal with Severus' temper tantrum."

Harry chuckled. He wanted to ask so many questions but when his mouth opened, he closed it immediately.

"Then again, I should've stopped running away from it." Ed chewed on his lip. "And lying."

"It's alright." Harry wasn't quite sure why those words came from his mouth. He then realised that he had been lied to, total untruths told to him. And Edward Elric whom he thought was not so mysterious anymore, became a stranger again. But he didn't feel like Ed was a stranger, he didn't even seem to care about the lies.

"That thing..." Ed muttered. "It's terrible but mine, that past, I should've taken responsibility over it. I'm ashamed, you know. But I should accept it."

"Yeah... And I'm ok with it." Everything came naturally, somehow. But he should be angry and make Ed tell the truth and... But there won't be a point. It didn't matter; Ed was his friend.

A familiar smirk.

"I should still punch you for that."

Harry felt a hit on his shoulder, not too rough but not soft enough to make him stumble.

Then they arrived, wondering why the door wasn't painted pink on the outside like it was on the inside. The blade of Sirius' knife was inserted in the crack between the door and the wall and the Invisibility Cloak was pulled away quickly, exposing Harry and Hermione to the horrors of frills and kittens. Ed studied the room carefully, wondering what he should ruin, preferably everything.

The rest stood guard outside. At once Harry grabbed a bunch of floo powder and stuck his head into the fire.

Ed could feel a slimy feeling in his gut. He couldn't believe that Umbridge would leave her office wide open, after all many, many pranks were pulled there. She should have upped the security. Maybe he should barricade the door. A clap and a large stone wall emerged from the ground, blocking the ugly, pink door, just in case. Hermione was just torn between fascination and bewilderment at the sudden large-scale display of alchemy that Ed never really showed.

He could hear footsteps. Harry had pulled his head out of the fireplace, looking stricken, confirming what he had feared. Footsteps.

"Sirius..."

The door and the wall was blasted open, sending rock and wood splinters flying.

"F**king wizards," Ed cursed, extremely annoyed with magic at the moment.

Umbridge stepped in, vanishing the wreckage at the same time. She was absolutely livid, Ed held the silent hope that she might explode. He thought to just grab Harry and Hermione, make his signature exit and run for it, but the Inquisitorial Squad entered too, holding tightly onto their captives Ginny, Luna, Ron and Neville.

Ed swore colourfully.

Harry was already being interrogated by that awful woman (can he sue the government for harassment and child abuse?). And Umbridge requested for Professor Snape's specialty, still threatening the Boy Who Lived while he was glaring in twenty different ways. Ed calmed himself quickly; he believed he got out of stickier situations before. There was about four Slytherin students snickering and laughing at Harry while they held their prisoners in lousy, slack holds. He could use alchemy to put down the ugliest of them all, Umbridge, and then his students can go karate on the rest and easily take care of the whole problem.

His eyes seemed to deliver the message easily and others waited for some signal to strike. The golden flare was intense, prepared. Sure, they'll be expelled, but who gave a sh*t?

"So who were you trying to communicate with? The half-breed? Albus Dumbledore?"

Harry looked enraged, shaking with pure hatred as the woman smiled cruelly, seemingly pleased with herself. Well not for long.

"Or was Elric here trying to contact the traitor Van Hohenheim?" Her sickly sweet honey glare turned to Ed with a sneer.

Ed was frozen in shock for a second, before snarling viciously, "What did you just say?"

"Don't play dumb, Elric." She seemed to be laughing. "Hohenheim is a dirty traitor and backstabber. He was working for Dumbledore all this time. He helped the half-breed oaf escape and disappeared a week ago, probably to grovel at the feet of that old man. He was always under Dumbledore's orders, getting close and seducing loyal members of the Ministry like me to plot against the Minister..."

"Shut your f**king toad face, b*tch!" Ed yelled, lunging forward only to be met at wand point.

"Tut tut tut, Mr. Elric. There should be no use of such language or violence in my office, hooligan." A look of deep loathing was sent in his direction. "But as they say, like father like son."

The door was opened, as if breaking the scene before worse could happen and Professor Snape strode in, the door held open by Draco. Edward never wanted more than ever to murder someone. In that moment, he perfected his copyrighted death glare, gritting his teeth so that he seemed like he was trembling all over, digging his nails into his palms so that it would piece skin if weren't for those thick gloves.

_The bastard did it again. He never tells me everything. He always leaves without a word. _

_Why am I not surprised? Or, why am I so...affected?_

As Snape and Umbridge had a civil debate on Veritaserum though underlying thoughts of strangling each other were there, until Harry shouted, "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Ed stopped grinding his molars, giving a swift glance at Snape with a curt nod that hopefully no one noticed. He crossed his arms, smirking when Snape closed the door behind him with a snap.

And when things seemed a tiny bit reassuring, Umbridge had that dangerous crazed desperate look in her eyes, shifting her weight between each foot and breathing heavily. She beat her wand on her palm and Ed felt that coil of anxiousness, by radiating wickedness as she seemed to talk to herself. He felt the urge to just use damn alchemy and take care of everything before the psychopath reveals her true psychopathic colours.

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue."

"No!" Hermione shrieked, more terrified than ever. "Professor, it's illegal."

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," Umbridge said quietly, facing Harry and tapping her wand at various parts of his body. She had the gall to pretend to look remorseful, as if nothing else could be done. "He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same."

Edward saw red. He remembered those black cloaked demons. And the souls reacted then, the Philosopher's Stone activated in a moment of panic and fear. This mad woman was the cause of that moment of weakness. And the souls. Unforgivable.

"If you try that, I will ensure you will be eating with feeding tubes for the rest of your life, Umbridge," Ed said his voice like razor sharp steel.

The High Inquisitor flinched. She could feel it, this voice did not belong a boy. It was one like an Auror's that been through the war and killed people. A murderer.

"W...Well, if you're so brave, Elric. Would you like to go first?" She struggled to keep the layer of honey in her tone.

Edward gave a look that said 'bring it'. He was unfazed, unafraid. He wouldn't be such a coward to fear a stick. He swallowed thickly, bracing himself. The woman's wand could have been sparkling, fuelled with the same merciless, vulgar character as its owner. Umbridge was flushed red, her blotchy skin really resembling those sorts of poisonous frogs. And her nostrils were flaring in anticipation, her wand gripped so tightly Ed hoped it might snap. She trotted closer, magenta heels against stone, and maybe she might trip, hit her head really hard on something and spend the rest of her life in St. Mungo's in a vegetable state.

As for Ed, he could take pain that he was prepared for. After all, he did promise that he would survive. This was nothing. Nothing.

Umbridge raised her dark oak coloured stick.

Nothing.

You don't scare me.

"NO! Harry, we'll have to tell her!" Hermione shouted in a cracked voice. She was trembling and sweating and on the verge of snapping. "He...he was trying to speak to Dumbledore."

Ed's eyes widened, along with everyone else's who did know who Harry really talked to. They froze, anticipating what genius lie Hermione thought of. Ed breathed a small sigh of relief, relaxing a little as Umbridge turned to Hermione with overwhelming eagerness. She was like a scientist about to make a breakthrough, just that this was a mad, heartless scientist that experimented on humans and cute, furry animals.

"We...we wanted to tell him its r...ready!" Hermione cried. "The...the weapon!"

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"Does anyone know what the bloody hell was the weapon Hermione was talking about?" Neville ask in between pants of air as they ran. Did they have a heading? Not really, just running in a general direction out of the main castle.

"No!" Ron yelled back, breathing heavily.

Ed said at the same time, "Maybe," as he bit his lip in thought.

"The weapon is a distraction," Ed called. "To buy us some time. Harry and Hermione seemed to spend a lot time in the Forbidden Forest since Hagrid's gone. Maybe there's something there."

It was nearly evening, the sun being less scorching and hiding behind thick, busty greyish clouds. No time, no time. Leaping over tree roots, feet crushing undergrowth and fallen leaves, making thump thump sounds as they wound around trees and vines and shrubs and bushes. The trees became denser, trunks growing thicker with hard, wrinkled bark and splinters sticking out. The grass was less and less, the ground now blanketed with leaf litter, black, brown and murky green. The smell of the forest was terrible, as usual. This forest not having the scent of wood and nature and vegetation, but had the lingering odour of dried meat and blood, and darkness (Ed could smell that somehow). Maybe it was due to the large amount of creatures that lived there, Ed heard of giant spiders, werewolves etc.

"Noooooooo!" A shrill scream echoed through the canopy, accompanied by the sound of hooves and loud stamping sounds.

"This way!" Ed swerved and ducked through low tree branches, running till he came to a clearing. It was just an area with no large emergent trees. Shaded still, with more peaks of light. And it smelt of forest, teenagers, and a whole load of horse.

"Edward Elric."

"Bane," Ed deadpanned.

The centaur did not look happy to see him. He held himself higher, glaring and glaring and tightening that beefy hold on the bow. They herd had a basic look, rage and disgust. Maybe they ate bad grass or something. But Ed felt a little better seeing Umbridge in their mercy, looking absolutely terrified and shrieking about her precious Ministry.

"Humans have trespassed into our territory," Magorian announced, shifting his hand as some of his underlings dragged the screaming pink blob away.

"Are you going to kill her?" Ed asked, looking at the leader dead in the eye.

He had no reason to fear. Those stick-in-the-muds would never harm a hair of the Sacrifice. Bastards.

Magorian did not answer. He stepped closer, ready for attack, but at the same time scrutinising Ed with that beady look, black eyes of iron filled with suspicion and irk, like he smelt something bad and tasted it even.

"Well, even if she is a bitch, I wouldn't be here if wasn't for her Demented Thingys." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Edward was shifted to pull the first punch if needed.

"I've heard, Edward Elric. We listen, to the Thestrals, to the Phoenix. And we can tell from the stars."

Ed scoffed, "So basically, you're stalking me."

A flash of anger, the kind of 'how dare you insignificant being talk to me your superior like that' anger.

"You were offered to pull out of the Game, Edward. And you should have. It would've been a better choice compared to what you've chosen now!" The centaur stomped his hooves to emphasize.

Ed laughed, loud and cold. "What I do is none of your business," he snarled. "You don't tell me what to do." Each word was punctuated with venom.

It was the centaur leader's turn to laugh, loudly and arrogantly, chortling like Ed just told the world's funniest joke.

"You think you can just defeat the Truth like that, Homunculus? Your kind had tried before and look where that landed them! It was actually quite entertaining! What a show of courage! But you will fail!" He was not smiling or laughing, just mocking, mocking, like he was spitting on a puppy after it got knocked down by a car.

And Ed would not stand it. "You better shut the f**k up!" he shouted.

The audience of DA students either jumped or flinched; even though Ed yelled a lot at them, they never heard him erupt like this, like he was going to maim and kill and burn everything with his glare.

He would not be put down anymore. Not by Truth, especially, he decided. And since he did not fear this Master, he would not be let anyone else run him down. No one. No one else.

You don't scare me.

Magorian was getting more pissed off at the second, like a servant defied his orders and back talked vulgarly. "You cannot defy your Master, Homunculus," he sneered. "This is a fatal mistake and you will die a thousand deaths for it. The planets show it all and..."

With a roar Ed leapt forward, drawing his right fist back and successfully landing a punch at the centaur's jaw. He heard a satisfying crack, and in a split second the half-horse was aiming a kick at him that he barely avoided. But he couldn't dodge the hand in time as it closed around his neck. It was coarse and large, wrapping around his windpipe like a coiled rope.

Edward yelped and his hands went to pry off the fingers. In vain, each appendage was laced with muscle, and Ed could feel the hair knuckles against his skin, tightly, tightly, but not choking.

Laughing. Mocking cocky mirth. "You Humunculi are so full of yourselves. You are Sacrifices, slaves that he controls. You can never be free like us! Know your place, the dirt beneath his shoes, Edward Elric." Sneering.

The markings were glowing now, Philosopher's Stone red. Red like the blood that was dripping down Magorian's chin.

"Hah, you can never escape!" Magorian was absolutely enjoying himself. The boy in his hands was no better than an animal. A filthy monster. "Look, he branded you already. You're not even a slave anymore, you're his pet! Soon you'd be servicing him like a common street who..."

"SHUT UP!"

A stunning spell flew towards the big centaur leader, and he flew only a few feet back, his grip on Ed's throat released. All the centaurs were aiming their arrows and shooting. The rain of archery were going to... Then the herd was all swept back at once, by the large arm of a giant. The arrows mostly dropped lightly on the ground at the impact of the giant Gawp's thick skin.

Wands were at the ready, Magorain pulled himself up, stinging with the dose of humiliation. He glared at all two-legged, exceptionally at Harry who shot him with the spell. To Ed, he gave a look of absolute loathing, spitting out blood onto the forest floor.

"You won't win the Game. You won't get your wish. Filthy monster, tainting our forest with your dirt," Magorian said, and the centaurs were all muttering under their breath roughly the same thing. "Mark my words, Edward Elric, you will die a thousand deaths, in mockery."

Ed snarled, "I have been a dog half my life, and even if I'm still one now, I'll make sure to tear off his neck with my own teeth." He gave the prideful centaur another death glare. "Mark my words."

Magorian made a sound like a growl.

"We don't harm foals." The herd was retreating into the trees, like shadows. "We don't touch Truth's dirty little Pet either."

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"F**king ass kissers," Ed muttered.

He realised he was clenching his trembling fists, reigning in the explosive souls of the Philosopher's Stone. They were more reactive now, probably due to Truth's little show. The centaurs only say Truth's so great because that's how they keep their positions. But inside they're just a bunch of frightened cowards.

At least he wouldn't be a coward. Not anymore.

But there were looks on the faces of the students. A mix of horror, suspicion and strangely pity. He hated that. Only Harry had this absolute trust, this unwavering look of determination as he turned away as if none of that drama happened.

"We need to save Sirius now," he said with conviction. "We can leave questions till later. Now Sirius is our top priority."

Ed felt grateful, a little. The real battle hasn't even started and he was exhausted. Damn, he sighed, taking the lead towards the exit of the forest.

"So how're getting to London?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

Ed thought for a moment, shrugging as if to let all the awkward tension roll off his back. "Thestrals."

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You don't scare me.

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**Hi**

**This chapter was exhausting. And super long. There were just so many things to wrap up before I go completely into the action. Ok, if everything goes as planned, the next chapter would be the final chapter of this 'book'. I promise a sequel, of course.**

**I just want to thank everyone again for sticking around with this story. And it's just made 300 reviews! Thank you so much for all the support! Virtual cookies for everyone!**

**So, if you have any questions, feel free to review/PM me. And thanks again to all the favouriters and alerters and reviewers Please continue doing so, just no flames. Constructive criticism is still welcomed, as well as language error correctors **

**Continue reviewing lots please**

**ssapphireangel**


	20. Walking In Pitch Black

**EDITED 9/4/12**

**Chapter 19 Walking in Pitch Black**

"So this was what you were doing in the forest? Babysitting a giant?"

Ron was silenced by Hermione's glare. She gave a wary glance at Ed's back; he didn't even turn. They were always looking at his back, and it seemed too large; like it had to support the weight of the world.

The walk through trees was quiet, seemingly long. Edward led the way, taking surprisingly long strides for such short legs. He looked absolutely unfazed, despite what had just happened. He stood straight, manoeuvring through the forest he knew like the back of his hand, each step hard and full, crushing the leaves unmercifully. Crunching sounds, rustling of branches.

He was always clenching his hands as if to brace himself for rejection.

The part of the DA following behind did not say anything. They didn't dare; and they found that Ed's silence was more intimidating than his usual yelling. It was strange what silence could do. They wondered what was the past that plagued Ed; would he reveal his secrets to them? But they knew that Ed was anything but a monster. And he was hurting somewhere. Hurting.

Ed peeked into the clearing full of Thestrals. He tried to spot Arielle; her eyes were always glowing brighter than the rest. She was at the end, licking and nuzzling her foal as it squealed and tried to avoid its mother's cleaning black tongue.

He stepped on the grass, and there was no sound. As he approached the herd, Thestrals glared at him, some approaching him, some moving away. One of the larger males stood in his path.

_**Back to beg, Homunculi?**_

The Thestral stood on his hind legs, raising himself tall. His hooves made a loud thump sound when they stomped back on the ground, digging into the earth, killing the small clump of grass.

Hermione jumped at the sound, nudging Luna who described what she saw. There were only the imprints left on the ground, angry marks. "I don't understand," Hermione was whispering. "Thestrals are not usually aggressive."

"No," Ed replied, crossing his arms. "Too bad for you."

The black horse made a sound that was between a neigh and a growl.

_**What we offered was your only chance! One in a hundred years! You dare refuse! You dare look down on us!**_

"I don't!" Ed yelled. "You were the ones who gave me a choice!"

_**Despicable humans! You abhor us! You look down on us! You take advantage of us! Be gone! Get ou...**_

_** Enough, Chevalier! Let him pass.**_

There was a moment of silence as the Thestral's rant was cut off. He was glaring with his glowing white eyes, as if trying to think of something to overrule Arielle's words. The other Thestrals were standing in between trees, as if trying to camouflage into the forest background. Some were disapproving, some had thoughtful gazes, but all were listening. The black horses would listen to wisdom, which was brought by age, rather than authority.

At last, Chevalier stormed off, his hooves kicking off the soil.

Ed approached Arielle slowly, taking time to look back at the group of DA students who were looking more confused than ever (the blur brats), his eyes conveying the message that he would take care of this.

_**I am not angry, child. Sad, but at least I'm proud.**_

Ed glanced at her eyes that were like stars and looked away again. He lifted his hand to stroke her head but hesitated, biting his lip.

"Sorry," Ed whispered sheepishly.

_**Why apologise?**_

Ed found himself unable to answer. He just continued scratching the back of her ears like how she liked it, feeling the leathery skin and every protruding bone. He gave a look of relief but it held a tinge of helplessness.

_**I know you. You are brave, just, determined. Your integrity would not let you take this path of shame, Edward. You are strong and so very, very human.**_

__"Arielle..." Ed found his throat clogged up, his heart constricted suddenly, hearing the tiny warning bells in his head, feeling the flare of the Philosopher's stone and the ache of the marks.

_What makes what human? The flesh? The body? The heart? The soul?_

_**I can only ask that you do anything to survive. A mother never wants to see her child pass before her. Never.**_

Ed smiled slightly. "Yeah, I can promise that." The Thestral nuzzled his cheek affectionately. He sighed with a lightened heart.

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It took mere minutes before the group of seven was in the air, making their way with great speed towards London. Most were apprehensive, stiffly trying to avoid eye contact with the ground; riding on what seemed to be thin air just seemed to create new fears. They were gripping the Thestrals' mane for dear life and that not relaxed, constipated posture looked quite hilarious.

Others who could see the Thestrals, namely Harry, just had this grim, worried expression, tension levels rising higher and higher as twilight fell.

Ed watched as six not-so-small teenagers attempted to fit into a battered telephone box.

"You have got to be kidding me."

They have magic and can't find some better secret entrance to a secret Ministry of Magic? What have they been doing this past century?

Ed grimaced for a second and begun squeezing himself into the glass box, muttering curses under his breath.

"Don't worry Ed; you barely take up any room – OW! Did you just bite me?"

"You're lucky that there isn't space to punch you! AND DON'T CALL ME SHORT!"

The door of the telephone box burst open and everyone toppled out. Ron was cradling his hand, teeth marks on his skin barely visible in the dim lights. He ignored Ed's glare, inching away slowly; anything to avoid the dwarf of rage.

"Come on," Harry said quietly, quick footsteps echoing on dark blue tiles of the Ministry of Magic.

Fifty-six...Fifty-seven... Their run broke into a sprint as the very, very long rows of shelves rushed pass them in this dark deserted part of the Department of Mysteries. Eighty-four...Eighty-five... The alleys were barely visible, lit up by the glowing numbers of each row. The only sounds were a combination of panting and hurried steps. Ed was getting that horrid feeling in his gut again, almost 100% sure that this was a trap.

"Ninety-seven!" whispered Hermione as they halted at the end of the row, trying to see through the darkness. There was nobody there.

Ed noticed the shelves were full of glass balls, wondering which weird obsessed wizard would have such a hobby. Anything wizardy spelled trouble now.

There was still silence.

Ed stood still behind the group. They had spotted a suspicious glass ball labelled with Harry's name. Thoughts whirled in his mind as he tried to piece everything together. Was Black actually captured and tortured and used as bait? What was the enemy's motive? What could they want? Where was the trap? He could barely make out the handwriting on the yellowish label underneath the dusty ball. Harry Potter. Dark Lord. What is that damn ball? What does the label mean? Did Truth have anything to do with this? Was this another one of his schemes?

"I don't think you should touch it, Harry," Hermione whispered urgently. She was obviously sensing something amiss.

What kind of game is this?

"It's got my name on it." And Harry closed his fingers around the glass ball's surface. Edward could feel every one of them hold their breath in anticipation.

Nothing whatsoever happened. He picked it up, gripping it carefully, brushing the layer of dust off the surface of the orb.

Silence.

"Very good, Potter. Now turn around and give that to me."

Sh*t.

Lucius Malfoy's hand was held out, expecting Harry to just hand over the strange but important glass ball. Ed's eyes glanced around only to see that they were surrounded by black shapes, Death Eaters, all pointing their wand at them with the promise of violence. How could he have been so careless? They must have apparated here. They must have knew that they would be there, waiting to ambush them.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry demanded, clutching the glass ball to his chest.

Loud, piercing laughter came from the attackers, a particular woman's cackling more distinct than the rest, and more annoying.

"Give it to me, Potter," Malfoy said again.

"I want to know where Sirius is!"

The irritating woman mimicked him in a mock baby voice. Nutjob, Ed confirmed. Probably an obsessed psychopath with a Voldy complex. Loves torturing children and puppies, he deduced.

"It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter," Malfoy sneered. "Now give me the prophecy, or we start using wands."

Ed remained silent at the back, eyes darting around for some opening, some way of escape. Or a counter-attack, how would he do it to take them by surprise. Smashing their wands would disarm them totally, and he could use alchemy.

Some sort of negotiation was still ongoing. The prophecy must be precious. And Dumbledore knew that Voldemort was after it. And they really did not want it smashed up. Harry was doing well, talking, and aggravating them. Which was good; people make mistakes when they were angry.

And Harry baited Malfoy, insulting Voldy, making sure Malfoy kept talking.

Malfoy was keeping his cool well, must be a trait was the snobby 'nobles'. But he was getting more and more impatient; they had better do something now or they would never get the chance.

"NOW!"

Malfoy was timely interrupted, caught by surprise and five 'Reducto' curses shot out, spheres of glass shattering, sending hundreds of pieces raining down.

"RUN!" Harry yelled.

A loud clap sounded and Ed slammed his hands on the ground, deconstructing and reconstructing, creating a wall and his trademark stone fists and spikes as a barrier. It suited as a distraction, just so they could gain distance away from the enemies.

The group were sprinting aimlessly, dodging curses and sending shelves toppling over like a domino effect. There was running and yelling and bright beams of light, and Ed realised that this was the first real battle he had in decades. Adrenaline was pumping through his blood, reigniting the thrill of battle and his deadly reflexes.

They had split up; Ed was with Neville and Luna. They were fighting in near darkness until a loud crashing sound and their way was blocked by the falling shelves which almost collapsed on them. Glass cut them up as they fell back and there was a loud crack came from Luna's ankle followed by a gasp of pain.

"My wanb!" Neville yelled in panic, trying to stem his bleeding nose. It had flung out of his hand, disappearing in the wreckage.

Ed almost forgot about that twig. He grabbed it out of his pocket and shoved it to Neville. Clapping his hands again, he cleared the debris quickly. They would be coming. Blue lightning was not exactly inconspicuous. Luna had an arm around Neville's shoulder and they staggered forward as fast as they could. Hopefully there would be an exit that was actually visible. This Ministry should get better signage. And emergency escape routes.

They found themselves rejoining the group as they fell through another strange door. And there was silence again. Only heavy breathing and muffled moans of pain.

They were in a pit. Why the f**k was there a pit in a supposed government building? A large stone archway stood on its dais.

Ed felt every inch of his skin crawl, as if sparks of static electricity were dancing on them, with one look the archway. He knew that his core was rumbling, his blood that was the Philosopher's Stone was bubbling there. Soon, there would be screams for his ears only, dragging him to the Gate, into the embrace of the black shadow hands and staring into that large eyeball.

"Did you see that?" Harry asked.

Ed's eyes shifted to the boy that was seemingly drawn to the arch. He could see the souls, the moaning and weeping and pleading, and Truth's menacing grin behind the wall.

"What? There's nothing there, Harry," Hermione whispered, taking a step closer.

"The Veil," Luna replied, her airy voice was anchored to the ground and not floating like usual. "I can see it too."

They were both drawn to the Veil. It was a trap. It was again his plot. Trap. Trap. Trap. Danger. Edward could hear familiar laughter, hated laughter. It beckoned him, created a whirlpool in his chest, staining his breathing and he felt like vomiting. And there was a feeling like something was scratching him under his skin, nails dragging across the underside of his flesh. A migraine greeted him like an old friend. Trap. Danger. Trap. Danger.

"Don't go close to it," he growled. "All of you, don't you dare step near that damn thing, get it?"

"You alright, Ed?" Hermione questioned. "You don't look so good." She tried to touch his arm but he flinched away like it burnt.

It was burning now, under his skin, in his veins and arteries and every vessel that blood flowed through. It was just a mild heated sensation, like the tip of a candle, but it would escalate. Knowing how a total bastard Truth could be, things would get worse.

"GET DOWN!" Harry yelled suddenly, snapping Ed out of his thoughts. He dropped to his knees immediately as tidal waves of magic crashed into the area, those bloody Death Eaters, those bastards.

He felt a hand grab his pounding head, digging its nails into his scalp. There was a wand to his temple, as if he was at gunpoint. But there would be no splattering of brain, of course. A scream rang above the sound of his heavy breaths. His heart was palpitating and he could see Neville's tortured body writhing at the crazy b*tch's curse.

He could never stand any friend hurting in front of him. Scenes of the many tragedies he saw flashed before his eyes. Never again, remember?

"You lot are pathetic! Your Lord is too; going through this trouble for some destiny sh*t in a ball!" he shouted across to everyone, giving a snort of laughter. He could see the worried faces of his friends, horrified at his sheer gut.

The Death Eater tightened the grip on his head. Ed could feel a trickle of blood down his cheek; must have bumped his head earlier. That's why everything was so loud and buzzing and throbbing. He decided take more risk. Provoke the enemy and they'll make more mistakes.

"Why would he need to know the damn future? He's unconfident, isn't he?" Ed yelled, struggling from his captor's grip. "He doesn't think that he can win! And you are all stupid idiots that'll follow him!"

Ed needed to buy time. Buy time and make sure no one else got hurt. The Order was probably on their way; thanks to Severus' message. They just had to hold on for a while more; not get hut for a while more; make sure no one died for a while more.

The Death Eaters seemed stunned. Good, good. Plant the seeds of doubt. Fight dirty. Ed believed those followers were the kind that followed out of fear. They delude themselves to believe that they would win because they had this Dark Lord for a leader. The truth had to be shoved in their faces, to shock them, to wake them. And then, they would be right where he wanted them.

"You bastards are fighting this battle for him and he's not even here! HE'S SCARED! YOUR LORD IS A F**KING COWARD!" Ed's right, metal hand flew to grab the wand that was poking his forehead and snapped it in two with pure strength. He elbowed the Death Eater in the gut and clapped his hands together.

The blue lightning flared, the large scale transmutation affecting as much ground as it can reach. Red light was slowly seeping through; Ed could feel the tug that was reaching into his Philosopher's Stone core, the souls in the Veil wailing.

No shortcuts. No Philosopher's stone. Equivalent Exchange. Analyse, Deconstruct, Reconstruct. No Philosopher's stone. Equivalent Exchange. Equivalent Exchange.

"CRUCIO!"

Ed tried to swallow his scream, but it ended up a choked guttural sound of pain. The lightning ceased, revealing three Death Eaters pinned to the ground by giant cement fists, some knocked to the sides. Malfoy was on his back, barely avoiding a sharp rock spine. And the only one standing was Bellatrix, her wand out and pointing at Ed's heart, inflicting the mind numbing pain. Her breasts were heaving, face purple with rage.

Her eyes glinted with madness and utter loathe, for Ed had insulted her master. She was the kind of follower that was loyal and devoted, just because.

"Avada..."

"DON'T!" Lucius bellowed. "THAT'S HIM!" Bellatrix stopped, glaring at Malfoy. Ed was still hunched on the ground, coughing out patches of bile.

"HOW DARE YOU..."

"NO, IT'S HIM!" Malfoy shouted. "Edward Elric. The Fullmetal Alchemist."

There was a moment of silence. The Death Eaters seemed to be recalling that name, that title as if it were familiar. And Ed came to a terrible conclusion; Voldemort knew about the Game, about Truth, about everything.

Bellatrix laughed menacingly. "You got lucky, Elric!" she spat. "My Lord particularly wants to meet you! You have something that he wants!"

Ed staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth on his ripped sleeve. "Tell him to face me himself," Ed growled hoarsely. He was about to clap and lunge at her with a blade to her throat when more people apparated into the area, and the battle begun once more.

Spells flew from both the five Order members and the remaining Death Eaters, splitting the stone ground. In the midst of the chaos, the glass ball slipped from Harry's hand and smashed on the floor, evolving a silvery mist before that dissolved into nothing.

Malfoy had a look of absolute horror at the shattered prophecy, before he drew out his wand and began duelling Harry and Sirius simultaneously, anger fuelling his hexes. Ed was too busy dodging spells to notice, trying to intercept his opponent and snap her wand. Bellatrix was not making it any easier; she was faster and crazier than anyone else. Her attacks were meant to kill in the most painful way possible.

The woman leapt away suddenly as another wave a blue lightning gave her a surprise attack. She laughed, hard and insane.

"Daddy's here!" she mocked, sending a particularly nasty curse in Hohenheim's direction as he emerged from the dust cloud. "You lead us on a wild goose chase, Hohenheim," she snarled, her glare exceptionally vicious towards the older Elric. "But Daddy can't protect him anymore!"

She yelled out a jinx that Ed didn't dodge; his mind was focused on Hohenheim. The father that abandoned him and came back to abandon him again. And he was _protecting_ him. He dared give that excuse? Ed felt himself get blown away, landing painfully.

Hohenheim yelled out to him, rushing towards him. And Ed wanted him to go away. Go away. Go away, bastard. He didn't need him. He didn't need his protection. Go away.

You won't break me down again.

Lucius Malfoy was down and Sirius took the opportunity to battle Bellatrix himself. Hohenheim had someone named Dolohov to duel and Ed wanted nothing more than to get up, shove the Death Eater away, and plant a good punch on his bastard father's face. He forced himself to his feet.

"Avada Kedava!" Bellatrix shrieked, green light shot towards her flesh-and-blood cousin. She had a more psychotic look now, hair everywhere, eyes wide in glee, cackling with laugher. She was a demon, a black shrouding pale skin, every pore soaking up the cries of torture and pain.

And Ed could almost see the future unravel in front of his eyes. Sirius would be hit square in the chest, tumbling backwards, eyes filled with shock and life drained away, laughing a last laugh as he fell head first into the Veil.

In a split second, Ed reacted, taking a huge leap to give an unworldly shove to Black's side. The Animagus' eyes were wide with shock, the deadly green light missing him by a mere millimetre and a thought clicked in his mind that he was thisclose to death. But he was more filled with terror as the blow meant for him did meet a target. Black. He just remembered seeing Edward Elric hit on the chest directly with a killing curse. Then he was falling. Black.

Sirius Black fell headfirst into the Veil, disappearing into its swirly fog.

A scream left Ed's lips as unimaginable unbearable pain spread through his body instantaneously. This might be what getting electrocuted by lightning feels lie. He felt as if his insides were ripped apart and cooked, boiled alive. His body gave a few spasms as he hacked and did the regurgitating he felt like doing since the battle begun. Splotches of blood spewed from his oesophagus as the last shock waves ran through his spine. Then and there, coughing and hyperventilating furiously, Ed remained on fours fighting unconsciousness.

This won't break me down.

Barely recovered, Ed gripped the closest support he could find, which was the frame of the Veil, dragging himself up despite the more than stinging pain. He pried his eyes opened and desperately tried to focus his largely greying and blur vision. He cursed foully and shook his head, glancing at the archway. The symbols, the circle, the array, alchemy, Philosopher's Stone, Gate, Truth, Sirius Black.

"Don't f**k with me again, bastard," he muttered hoarsely, clapping his hands together. Blue lighting a red glow of the marking on the Veil, familiar relics soon fading and Edward Elric was gone.

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Sirius Black stood in that empty, ominous space, facing a large, intricately carved door that was larger than any door he had ever seen. It was a still door, a Gate maybe, bound to no wall, and who know what it lead to. And as if this were a complete scene from a horror film, faint child-like music played in the background...

And silence.

"Good evening, Mr. Wizard."

Sirius turned, face to face with the oddest thing ever. It was a figure of a boy, yet the only things tangible were the right arm and left leg, so technically he was staring at two pieces of floating flesh. The voice, childish and mocking, could not have come from it since it had no mouth, but it did, and echoed in this white place.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked, warily.

The face splitting grin really freaked him out. But at least he found out that the guy had a mouth, if not how could it have talked? Shrill laughter pierced through the white space, resembling the victorious scream of a child winning a game.

Why was he so happy? It was only a question asked. A very, very often, well-asked question.

"I am what you know as the World," it cried, hands (or hand) spread out. "Or sometimes the Universe. Or sometimes God. Or sometimes Truth." More laughter. "But most of all, I am..."

"Truth!"

Sirius jumped at the interruption, more relieved when he heard the familiar voice.

"Well, well, hello again, Mr. Alchemist." It was a gleeful tone, but anger could be sensed underlining it; the kind of anger related to jealously, possessiveness, control.

"Let him go, bastard. He has nothing to do with this," Edward snarled, walking past him towards the thing, unafraid. Sirius could see the slight stumble in his step, as if he was hurt somewhere. He noticed those smaller shoulders that were straining not to be hunched, with the beads of sweat and the dried blood on his lower jaw.

"Well you don't look too good," Truth jeered, not even faking concern. "And Sirius Black does have everything to do with this." More anger. It was frustrating, that anger. Like it was an enemy he didn't know a thing about because he didn't do anything to offend anyone to make it an enemy. "Everyone you know is involved in this. Anyone you pass by will be involved in this." Cruel, cruel laughter.

And it was even more irritating, with said enemy was laughing as if there was some joke that no one told. Like it was laughing at them even though they did nothing.

How did Ed come to know such a being?

"Even the boring humans, Fullmetal." Fake yawn, before the smirk was back on, full blast. Maybe he wasn't so boring. "Let's have a little gamble, Edward Elric!"

The thing raised its invisible hand, and Sirius felt a strong gust of wind from behind him. The kind of wind that was like an eagle's claws, wrapping around his body and dragging him away. He turned to see the doors of the Gate flung open, eyes widening to the size of golf balls in shock and fear and bile about to gush up his throat. It was a gruesome sight; the moaning, screaming and crying and thousands of little black hands as if billions of people were trapped there, moulded into one monster. A large sized eye opened in the middle of the mass, and Sirius could see every vein pulsing as the eye was unblinking. He felt the little hand reaching out at a great speed grabbing every part of him so that they could pull him into; make him a part of them.

He would be eaten. He would be swallowed whole by the monster. He would be a part of the trapped glob of black, in pain and suffering. Sirius screamed as he tried to pry himself away, but his feet no longer touched solid ground so he could not run and grabbing and ripping away the hands were useless more just came and wrapped around him in a mockery of a hug.

He was going to be eaten. He was going to be eaten. He was going to be eaten. He was going to be eaten.

"Let's bet, Mr. Alchemist. If he survives the Gate, he would live," Truth forced out in between laughter.

Sirius struggled and howled and wailed and flayed his arms, before the doors slammed shut.

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Edward never felt so helpless. He wanted nothing more to sprint forward and deliver Truth's well deserved punch, and pummel the thing so hard it would sneeze out of its bellybutton. He wanted to give pain to the miserable being that made his life hell. But as if wires were wound around every part of his body, he could not move a muscle. He could only watch in dismay as Sirius Black was thrown into the worst possible place to be.

He could only wait. And hope and pray that he would be strong enough to overcome the toll.

Truth's consistent laughter was not helping much. After a few torturous minutes, Truth's ceased his sounds, grinning from ear to ear.

"Looks like I win, Mr. Alch..."

The doors of the Gate were pried open, and Ed could see the human hands struggling to push the heavy doors open. Soon, the Gate gave way and a figure was dropped onto the ground, panting on his knees. His hair hung over his eyes and rivers of sweat were tricking down his cheeks that could be mistaken for tears. He was absolutely exhausted like every part of his body was made of jelly.

Ed felt a smirk find its way onto his face.

"Congratulations, Sirius Black!" Truth exclaimed, though its excited tone was masked with menace. It was unhappy, furious actually, irate, absolutely seething. "You are now my final Sacrifice!"

And it clapped its hands together, making smacking sounds that resonated. It sounded like the beating of flesh, each slap precise and intended. Each clap was hard and heavy, as if it was squashing something between its palms.

There was no more laughter.

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Black. Black like his last name. Black like how his family always was. Black for darkness. Black for the Gate. Black. Black.

"Black, can you stand?" It was a low voice, slightly hoarse. Hands clutched his right arm, to help pull him off the ground (there was no ground). "He's gone. You survived. Come on. Let's go."

Right. Yes he remembered. Right. He survived. He wanted with all his mind to escape and he did. He escaped hell. But not without experiencing it. And hell...hell it was hell.

It was so bright just a while ago. And white. Bright white light.

"Elric?" Sirius asked. Was it him that those hands belonged to? And that voice? Those hands that dragged him up but were trembling slightly. That voice that was filled with pity and pain. He was walking now; lead into nothing, a direction that lead nowhere. Was he still in the Gate? He stumbled and almost tripped over his feet a few times, but there were strong hands holding him up. They were walking, and his support was still trembling, hurting.

"I'm sorry." It was barely audible.

"Elric?" Sirius questioned again. He didn't know why he asked, the voice was recognizably Edward's, but he just had to be sure. The only thing he could see was maybe the back of his eyelids. Or were they that? He was sure he opened his eyes. He blinked a few times. It was so bright earlier. Were they in the Gate? "Elric, why is it so dark?"

**PITCH **black.

Suddenly his walking stick stopped, frozen in footstep and he could feel the pressure of knocking into someone's back or shoulders. Heh, maybe the shrimp wasn't as short as he thought. He stumbled a little, as if wanting to continue walking forward but hesitated. He couldn't go on if he couldn't see what was in front of him. What if he bumped into something?

There was some form of small breeze just right in front of his face like someone was waving a piece of paper there. A gasp. And a low growling at the bottom of the throat. The grip on his arm tightened. There were thick gulps of air, the steadying of breathing.

"We're going past the Veil soon," Ed said grimly. He sounded choked somehow.

"Can you switch on the lights?" Sirius hated asking such a stupid question but he was always terrible in the dark, always the first to bump into some sort of furniture or wall.

"I'm sorry." Ed's voice cracked. There was it again. Ed was truly guilty; like he did something very, very wrong. The kind of mistake that no one would ever forgive. The firm hold on his arm didn't waver.

Sirius began walking again, carefully. The hard hand wouldn't let go.

A shallow breath, a cold, low tone. "There's always a toll for the Gate. Like how they took my limbs."

Sirius didn't get it. He understood that the big door of evil would come up with something evil to whoever who goes through it, willing or not. And Ed said that there would be some price. He wondered what he paid. He didn't feel any pain, just mildly aching from strained joints and muscles. It was just too dark. And Black. Like his name. He hated his name.

"It's too..."

"They took it."

The words were like dropping a 100 pound marble slab onto concrete ground. There was finality, direct, straightforward truth. It could have come out in a more comforting way, more easing. But ripping off a bandage was better than slowly peeling it off and lengthening the pain.

This time Sirius stopped and Ed stumbled. The ex-criminal let a gasp escape. Maybe he was trembling like he was just slapped. "You mean...I'm...It's...It is..."

"Yes."

He was sure his eyes widened in horror, but they were not adjusting to the darkness at all. There was not even dull blurry shapes, or dim lights or outlines of figures. Sirius wanted to rub his eyes raw, hoping that anything would do anything; something would happen if he did something. His hands twitched.

"I'm sorry." This time the 'I'm' couldn't even be heard, so it just sounded like a broken apology.

The hand was now pulling him forward. They began to move again.

"We're reaching the Veil..." Ed was cut off and his footsteps stopped, causing Sirius to almost trip again. The grip around his arm loosened. He fought the urge to reach out and grab the boy beside him.

"Al." This was a breathy whisper. Relief? Longing? Sorrow?

He felt like he was standing alone in a room that was painted black. He didn't dare move. He almost didn't dare to breathe. He felt like he was a child again. A child afraid of the dark, fidgeting around for anything to hold onto, be it furniture or person. Sirius stood still, tilting his head to any slight sound, contemplating his insecurity and weakness. But he wouldn't be beaten, he never did allow himself to be beaten. Sirius listened.

The echoing footsteps halted, steps that were rushed and almost _desperate_. There was shuffling of clothes, made from cradling an object in the arms. It sounded like a desperate embrace. And gasping, a lot of gasping, made from held back tears.

"Brother, have you come for me?" It was a childish voice, not like the horrid Truth's, either from a girl or a young boy. It was very hoarse, as if it had been unused for centuries, rough around the edges and dry. It came from a parched throat, accompanied with slight wheezing, raspy, cracked, but so _hopeful_. _So hopeful._

Choked sobs. It was a terrible sound. There was even whimpers. The gritting of teeth and the rapid swallowing of phlegm, making that somewhat gargling noise. But gasps of air dried the sound, and more sucking in of air as if trying to keep it all in but only succeeded to make everything sound more suffocated.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

"I'll come back."

"I promise."

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Ed's mouth was in a thin straight line and he wanted to punch something badly. But he knew nothing could be done. Nothing could be changed. That was Gate, you give something, you won't get it back. Even if the 'customer' happened to be unwilling, it didn't matter.

The Gate. It was such a cruel, _cruel_ thing.

Ed held in his hands the one thing that he wanted most. He cradled his brother to his chest, heaving and unable to stop the tears from pouring out of his eyes. He held the person that he wanted back so much. This important person that was waiting for him for so long. He held him in his arms. Yet he still can't take him back.

He held it, but can't have it.

Cruel, CRUEL world.

Ed was sobbing, crying his heart out. His sounds were of relief and tinged with joy yet flooded with devastation.

"Brother..."

The body in his arms was too weak to even lift his hand. Ed could only grasp the bony fingers. Maybe if he held tight enough he wouldn't have to let go.

"I can't right now, I'm sorry," he whispered in a choked sob. "I don't have enough to give in exchange."

Their hands were trembling, tears dripping on their knuckles.

"But I promise I'll come back. Al, I'll come back and take you with me." His weeping voice was determined. "I'll get you back, Al, I promise, I'll come back."

More time to hold you close before I have to let you go again.

"Brother..." It was the only word that could escape those dry, wrinkled lips.

Edward held his breath to cease his sobs and pathetic crying. His heart was heavy as if it was made of lead, so heavy and so painful. He tenderly brushed the limp straw-coloured locks from his brother's forehead so his lips could graze it, leaving the kiss and the tears.

_I want you back. I want to take you away from this place. I want you back by my side so bad. So, so bad._

_ I'm sorry. I love you. I'msorry. Iloveyou. I'msorryIloveyou. I'msorryIloveyouI'msorryIloveyouI'msorryIloveyou._

He finally laid his brother down on the white floor and he felt like he was laying down a huge part of him together. He willed his tears away as he removed his trademark red cloak, torn and dirty, brushed away as much dirt as possible, and laid it over his brother, as if tucking him in bed.

Sirius heard the rustling of clothes. He didn't dare move, he didn't dare make a sound. Then he felt someone holding his arm to lead him away again.

He could feel the cold fingers through his sleeve.

"Ed?"

"Let's go." And he never thought Ed could sound so broken.

The fingers were digging softly into his arm as if in a plea. And he never though Ed cried. He couldn't see it, that's why Ed would cry in front of him.

And they walked, through black, out of the Veil.

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**Hi**

**Alright, sorry for the wait I hoped this chapter was ok and I didn't rush too much in the action or add too much stuff. I would probably finish this story in the next chapter before the epilogue. There would be a sequel, don't worry. More details would be coming up. Thanks to my friend Nat for proofreading! **

**Any questions feel free to review/PM me. Thanks for reading and reviewing Can't believe this story's going to be over soon...it's been wonderful Haha ok, please review, and no flames as usual. THANKS TO EVERYONE, if not for you this story wouldn't have been possible. Virtual cookies! Review lots please!**

**ssapphireangel **


	21. Bear With It

**Chapter 20 Bear With It**

You would have thought that leaving such a dreary, hopeless place that didn't even have a name (what were you supposed to call it? The space where the Gate is? Truth's space? What exactly?) would be like lifting the heaviest burden off your heart. But it was quite the opposite. The White Room (Ed decided to call it) seemed to slow down or even stop the pain of his injuries. He could walk through the Veil fine, even leading a blind man, but when he found himself in the real world, he collapsed to his knees. His body's hurt seemed to finally register in his mind and it took all of his willpower to stop him from vomiting again (like he had anything left to regurgitate).

Everyone looked positively shocked. The Archway suddenly glowed, red lightning cackled and then two figures just fell out of nowhere. One looked awfully like the recently 'deceased' Sirius and the other a certain golden haired (also deceased) shrimp. Those left in the pit were the Order and the DA group; most Death Eaters defeated, some missing, probably fled. Shock was soon replaced with horror.

It wasn't just Sirius. It was Edward Elric. Edward Elric that looked like some Dark creature with red symbols crawling up his neck, missing only his pale face, and that golden hair and eyes and those pieces of metal that replaced his limbs. He looked horrifying, something that came out from...from..._hell_.

An angel of death, golden hair loose like a halo, black jacket, trousers and those bloody combat boots. Eyes of molten gold, arm of steel and a dead language glowing on pale skin. It spelt a ritual that made _monsters_ (said in a whisper).

Ed was staggering to his feet, seeing that Sirius was unconscious, face down on the rock. A terrifying thought immediately flashed through his mind. He hurried, rolling the unmoving body over with trembling hands. His heart was in his mouth, eyes widened in fear. His cheeks were damp, either dried blood or tears and short gasps escaped his mouth. He could barely focus to take the man's pulse; his head and stomach were hurting so much.

And there it was, slow and sluggish, but there, the heartbeat.

Ed heaved a sigh of relief, relaxed and almost letting his body fall into unconsciousness. He felt weak, wanting to flop down and just sleep. Sleep the pain off. Sirius wasn't dead. He wasn't dead. He didn't let him die. He couldn't get up; Ed was just hunched over the seemingly lifeless body, seeing the small rising and falling of the chest. Tired, hurting...

He let out a shout; as if someone zapped him in the head with a taser.

And it started burning. It was literally like someone doused him with kerosene and set him on fire, flames that reached up to thousands of degrees and Ed almost believed he had turned into a pile of black ash. Then his brain finally registered the fact that he was in fact not dying, not blazing but in pain, and he was glowing. Yes, his skin was glowing red.

The marks that were his curse were peeking through his sleeves and gloves. A message? A warning? Truth wanting to make his life more difficult than before in the sickest way possible? His heart was pounding, the thrumming beats echoing in his head, intensifying the migraine. The Philosopher's Stone was a mash of souls implanted into his very core seemed to have melted and was now coursing through his veins. The millions of voices in agony that used to scream at him seemed become one, telling him something in one voice. Shouting at him. It was so noisy. But so clear.

"ED!"

The golden haired boy jumped out of his trance, turning so quickly he might have twisted his neck. Remus was behind him, looking more dishevelled than ever, holding two hands up in a gesture to calm him down. He took cautious steps. Not a surprise; Ed looked like an alien.

He looked traumatised, glowing with widened eyes and breath escaping his mouth in short pants. His hair had come out of its braid, hanging limply on his shoulders, tangled like seaweed. He seemed reluctant to leave Sirius' side, hovering beside the unmoving body as he struggled to stand. One leg seemed broken, it giving off small spasms as he rested his entire weight on the other foot. Ed soon caught his breath, now repeatedly running his tongue over his dry, split lips, though there just seemed to be no moisture in his mouth anymore.

"He's...he's fine..." Ed croaked. "Harry..."

"He went after Bellatrix," Remus explained, trying to help the swaying Ed. "Don't worry. Dumbledore's here. He won't let anything happen to Harry."

Ed sighed at the assurance. He swallowed the lump in his throat that wouldn't go away, making a sound at how painful it felt. His whole oesophagus felt inflamed.

"Thirsty..." he groaned, hoarsely.

The first time in years he felt real thirst.

And his stomach hurt. Not like any pain he had felt before. It hurt in a different way.

Real hunger he had not felt in decades.

"Ed, you alright there?" Remus asked.

Ed's head seemed to snap up to look at the werewolf.

_Doesn't he look delicious?_

With a strangled roar Ed jerked away from his hold that was trying to support him. He backed away quickly, a new feeling flashing in his eyes. Terror beyond words.

The Philosopher's Stone mocked him, shrieking at him, word by word, loud and clear as day.

_Rip them to shreds! Tear them apart! Suck their souls right out of their mangled flesh! _

_Don't they all look so delicious?_

"NO!"

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"One," Truth sang, jabbing a cruel finger into nowhere.

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"They're all here! Good, good."

"Now we can start for real! Spice things up!"

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"ED! Calm down!" Hohenheim tried to grab his son. His little boy, looking so lost and scared and hurt. "What's wrong?!"

"NO! Nonononononono!"Ed kept yelling and yelling, backing away from everyone and everything.

He was a screamed psychotically and people flinched and jumped at the tortured tone, eyes full of fear and horror. What was that archway? Sirius Black looked like a corpse and Edward Elric was losing it. Those traumatised eyes and red marks that glowed like a curse. What sorcery was this? The boy was choking, his raw throat burning more than ever. He gloved hands flew to his mouth, not trying to force down more vomit but to crush his nose and lip. The sense of taste is amplified by the sense of smell. Don't. Don't. Don't.

_Do it! You have starved us for years! _

_Homunculus sweetheart, aren't you so very hungry? _

"I'M NOT!" he screamed at nothing. "I'M NOT! I DON'T WANT TO!"

"ED!" Hohenheim reached out again, only to be pushed away.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

After the outburst, Ed took off, scrambling away and running, running away from some beast. And Hohenheim could only bring himself to follow a few minutes later, snapping out of his shock. He could only curse himself, an old man, so full of regret. So many mistakes he couldn't fix. And hopelessly chasing someone he walked away from who would never want him again. How he hated to see the back of his son getting smaller and smaller, trembling from pain and fear.

He needed to be the father to the boy he orphaned by choice. Right his wrongs. Then maybe he deserved bits of forgiveness.

"EDWARD!"

Ed pressed his hands to his ears in vain of calming the excruciating headache. The roaring of the millions of souls were deafening, trying to explode out of his body in an attempt of freedom. It burnt. It hurt. It HURT.

_**Brother, Brother! It hurts! It HURTS! **_

The distorted voices were drowning out his surroundings. With a loud gasp Ed forced eyes open, leaning on the black stone wall trying to pull himself together. The Philosopher's Stone. Homunculus. They wanted more souls. They wanted less suffering. Less suffering, for more souls. Eat everything alive. It hurts and it would hurt less.

_**Big Bwother! Big Bwother!**_

Not a monster. Notamonsternotamonsternotamo nsternotamonster.

"Al..." he croaked, hands flying to grasp his throat to stop the burn, stop the rawness, stop the thing that was trying to claw its way out of his body. "Al..."

He felt like he was back at the day he did human transmutation, committed the taboo to have his brother snatched from him. How he was pleading, how he was begging to be given his brother back. How he yearned for his brother in his arms. Warm, soft flesh or cold, hard metal. It didn't matter. Just his mere presence, his innocent eyes, his gentle voice...

He couldn't. He wouldn't. He would never. Never, ever use the Philosopher's Stone. He would rather die than lay a finger on his brother's lost soul, boiling inside him.

_SHUT UP!_ He thought futilely. It was just screaming in his head. The kind of screaming from the Ishvalan Massacre. The kind of noise from the Gate. Well Truth or homunculus of Philosopher's Stone could go shove their head up their asses.

He met greater resistance as he tried to collect all the power, all the voices, all the millions of people that were unjustly sacrificed for one man's selfish dream. _Listen to me. Listen to me! SHUT UP!_

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I know. I know it hurts." He swallowed thickly. "Just a while more. I'll set you all free, I promise. Bear with it."

And silence.

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For someone with short legs, Edward could sure run fast. Hoheheim panted through the hall of the Ministry of Magic lined with tens of black stone fireplaces, desperately trying to find his son. He noticed the debris, the shattered glass and bits of rubble, a fight definitely occurred. Magical, of course, alchemy could do so much more damage.

A little figure laid leaning on a protrusion of the domed dark walls, breathing but shallowly, hoarsely. He rushed to the trembling boy, noticing half lidded eyes and shredded black jacket (his coat was gone, oh how he loved that red coat), sweat streaked forehead and plastered golden hair, the braid already came apart, strands hanging limply. His automail was limp besides the twitch every few seconds. He was unseeing, clear exhaustion dragging him slowly into unconsciousness.

"Al..." Ed breathed. Keeping his brother's name at his lips kept him sane. It kept him strong.

If Al were here in your place, he would know. We would have fought this together.

If Al were here in your place, he would have been with me.

And Hohenheim knew that he could never match up to even a molecule of Alphonse. His younger son was everything of his mother: love, gentleness, strength. But Alphonse was sacrificed. And he thought that he took Alphonse's place and disappeared; the brothers both would be so much happier. He couldn't wish for nothing more that Alphonse standing where he was.

Because he didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to help. He couldn't do anything for his beloved son because he just didn't know what.

It was terrible how great an alchemist he was yet how terrible a father.

Hoheheim tried to gather his son into his arms but the bare contact made him flinch violently, the previous reaction leaving every part of his skin sensitive as if sunburnt. As carefully as he could, he slowly supported Ed to his feet, his son coherent enough to stubbornly refuse being carried. Ed groaned without saying a word, trying to push the comforting arm away. He staggered, gasping, yet he wanted nothing to do with the man beside him.

It broke his heart, it did. Hoheheim felt torn apart. He was just as obstinate though, holding Ed up despite the weak struggles. Wounds needed more time to heal. Scars needed more time to fade. Maybe he could do something right for once.

He was clueless though, he never knew the best thing to do. Ed was right, he knew nothing.

His boy resolved to being held up by the arm on his automail, knees shaking too much. There was the same awkward tension between the two, Ed glaring resentfully and Hohenheim ignoring it with the usual grim look.

"What could have caused the reaction?" he asked hesitantly.

Ed refused to reply. He pried the arm away, swaying for a moment before continuing to walk, steadily. His lips were pursed though cracked, the fire in his eyes blazing like an inferno, the tinge of victory and raw strength. He always looked like a warrior (one that looked too much like a child) and with those ripped clothes and crimson marks he seemed more like one walking from a won battle, or towards one.

There was a wind, a strong gush of it, certainly spelled, that whipped his hair and cloak back.

Ed broke into a run, turning around the corner. His combat boots crushed the splinters of glass, slapping against the wet tiles. His mind went into overdrive, dispelling any sort of ache he felt earlier. Harry was in trouble. The trouble-magnet was definitely in trouble. He swore foully. He swerved around a corner.

And met with eyes of blood.

Time seemed to freeze. Ed could see the bald snake-like head, nothing but cruel eyes and bluish green veins. No nose, lips, ears and neck long like a cobra's. For a second he could feel the man, no, monster unravel before him, each life that each spider finger took forcefully. The torture, the selfishness, the brutality, he could sense it all. And most he could feel was the lack of remorse, the hollow heart housing a soul torn apart by murder. Fragmented.

Voldemort was already gone, but he had seen what he needed to see. He came for the Prophecy, with the desire to see the future, or confirm the future that was destined. Harry Potter, was the equal that would stand up to him? Was he meant for his doom? No. Harry Potter was his equal, yes, neither could live while the other survives. But he was not a true weakness in his eyes. He saw it, found it, the one who was held in completely different level above him.

Tom Riddle knew it was vital to know thoroughly what he wanted to make. A horcrux. No, horcuxes. He knew much of their benefits, their tiny weaknesses. He used their power, kept them hidden and protected from power. But there was one thing, seemingly impossible. Homunculi, they were the natural destroyers of such dark items of magic. They smelt out soul fragments and devouring them was their nature, instinct. It was what the Philosopher's Stone core required, a necessity for survival. Tom knew that but he didn't take it under consideration. After all, Homunculi went extinct years ago.

Except one.

Two obstructions now, not just one. Best get rid of one, make it one again.

_If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy..._

"Harry!"

Wounds were torn open, as if clawed fingers held each side of the gaping hole in the flesh, prying it apart to bleed and bleed. Ed saw Harry writhing on the floor, muttering words of death mixed with strangled cries like one of those tormented animals. His eyes were opening and closing rapidly, showing the whites of the eyeball, sweaty hand grabbing the cursed scar as if a knife was drawn on it.

"_Kill me now, Dumbledore,"_ he snarled, hissing like a snake, spit flying from his mouth like he was choking.

Ed knelt at his side, holding the convulsing body down by the shoulders, swearing like a sailor.

"Fight the damn bastard, you bloody idiot!" he yelled, contemplating on using violence to snap Harry out of that possession, the boy was struggling and hurt and if he didn't do something he might just kill himself by biting off his own tongue with those insane words pouring pass it. "Do something, Grandpa!" His head snapped to the side as he bellowed at the slightly stunned Dumbledore. He was getting more and more panicked, the Philosopher's Stone might reactivate with this strange pouring of emotions like he had to do _something_ and why wasn't anyone doing anything?

The struggles were weakening and Ed was terrified that the worst was to happen. Dumbledore looked calmer now, stern and he had a vice grip on Ed's right shoulder, forcing him away from Harry, who laid still. If not for the quick laboured breaths, he looked dead. But he was sitting up, pale and sweaty and totally exhausted.

The two boys, relief pouring into their veins, finally noticed the people emerging. Wizards and witches came in sparks of green, rushing pass the fireplaces nearer, muttering.

"He's here, I saw him! He-who-must-not-be-named!" "He's back, he's really back!" "Merlin's pants –"

And the buffoon of a Minister looked like a fish, stumbling and stammering. Can't deny the facts now? Ha, Ed really wanted to transmute something up his ass.

They were really drawing attention. The Boy who Lived (yet again) and Edward Elric (he'd better not become famous), alchemy professor Van Hohenheim and supposed exiled Headmaster Dumbledore. He was almost joyous to be ushered onto a newly made Portkey (those deathtraps of transportation) to be whisked away into the Headmaster's office.

The place never changed. Everything that was broken was repaired though it had been locked away for quite some time. Must be magic making things so tidy and not equivalent. But Ed was too tired to figure it out. He just wanted to curl up in a soft warm bed and sleep till next year. His brain was fried along with everything else, he could even start snoring on his feet...

Ed swore again, louder than all the times before, face blackened like a child who was just denied his nap. Silver ornaments shattered on the floor, swept off the crowded table in a fit of anger. Harry looked like he was about to smash something else but was stopped by the ultimate dagger glare of Ed. Ceasing his destruction he began bellowing instead.

" – ALIVE!" Ed cut in, that one word in raised pitch and actually louder than Harry.

"What?" Harry snapped.

"Sirius is alive!"

"I saw him go through the Veil!"

"I went through the Veil and got him out obviously!"

"But how?" Harry demanded. He was tired of the secrets. Dumbledore kept things from him. Ed kept things from him. He was no longer going to be so bloody _ignorant_! "NO MORE LIES!" he shouted, eye blazing from anger and hurt.

Ed gritted his teeth. Telling was horrible. Truth was horrible. He hated it. But it had gone to the point that silence was no longer right. Half truths were now hazardous. He needed secrets to remain secrets, but revelation now became a necessity.

"Harry..." Hohenheim interrupted, trying to sooth the tension and negative energy.

"Shut up!" the boys both said, though Ed was feebler.

"Yes," Ed muttered. "You're right." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He needed to be rid of the stubborn headache. This story, his story, it needed to come out right.

"Get out," Ed told Hohenheim.

"Ed..."his father protested.

"Get out," Ed repeated. "I need to talk to Harry alone." He was surprised how cool that came out. Usually these conversations ended with someone's broken nose.

Hohenheim hesitated before making his way to the door with slow steps. Gonna walk out again? Again? He berated himself. He ran a hand through his golden hair, watching his son from the corner of his eye. He couldn't read the apathetic expression. He rarely knew what was going through Ed's mind. And he couldn't decide what hurt more: anger or indifference.

Anger: his efforts bore no fruit. Indifference: Ed was hurting and hiding. What should he do? He was so useless at the most crucial times. He never knew what to do when he needed to. Screw it all. Screw. It. All.

Ed was taken by shock at the warmth that engulfed him. He froze though it was so warm and comforting, the strong arms that wrapped around him. He could go numb even as he thought back to when he was held like that. The gesture had power, strength like a pillar and Ed was for once earthed, drawing energy from elsewhere instead of always, always sapping from himself.

"I know," Hohenheim breathed, voice full of sorrow. His eyes must be wet, tears threatening to flow, face contorted in devastation. He must look like that bloody awful family photo.

Like he was holding him up with those large, calloused hands.

"I know it hurts," he croaked again. "But you're no longer alone."

Ed bit his lip hard because he couldn't find it in him to push the man away. He felt himself threatening to burst, part of him wanting to hit his father while wanting to hug back. While being embraced to what felt like hours but was seconds, Hohenheim pulled away, his right hand brushing his eyes and nose, digits swiping away the messy evidence of sadness. But his heart too welled in joy as he turned to leave, just to stand outside the door. This small happiness at the simple fact that his son did not reject him for once; it was enough to make him want to never leave. Never again will he leave.

"This doesn't change anything," Ed forced, blinking rapidly, successfully hardening every bit of his already melted heart. "It doesn't change a damn thing." He punctuated each word.

Hohenheim gave a small nod, but he looked so distorted, like on the verge of crying and laughing, smiling tearfully and leaking mucus.

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The door was open just a crack so Ed could see the tip of a leather boot peaking out.

"Muffliato," Ed told Harry who muttered the spell. He might need to get his wand back from Neville. It didn't matter anyway; it was a useless piece of tree bark.

He took a seat, just at the angle of the door opposite Harry. The boy was clearly uncomfortable, looking confused but roughly calmed, fidgeting and chewing his lip like it was a chocolate frog. Dirt, grim and a bit of blood covered up the strain his mind and body took on earlier. His eyes were terribly bloodshot, must have burst a blood capillary; fighting Voldemort off his brain took its toll, the bloody annoying parasitic bastard. But Harry was clearly adamant, determined to not be treated like a five-year-old made of glass anymore.

"I hope you understand that I can't tell you everything," Ed began. "It's..." he swallowed. "Hard."

Harry nodded. "But promise me: No lies."

Ed laughed lightly, a weak attempt to ease the tension. "Of course."

"I admit I did lie to you before." Ed sighed. "But my story did have some truth." He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know where to begin."

Harry's eyes widened a bit, thinking. "Was that man your father?" he started.

The alchemic markings were itching, a lot.

"Biologically," Ed replied. "Not sure if I will ever consider him one though. He left us when my brother was a baby. I believed he caused our mother to become ill with worry. I blamed him for her death. He didn't write, didn't bother replying our letters, didn't even come back for her funeral."

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured, not knowing how to react except looking guilty.

"Don't worry about it. My brother and I got by just fine. We had a teacher and she was like a mother to us, and Granny Pinako and Winry." He smiled as he reminisced. "Then we made some bad mistakes and had to leave home. I joined the military. Al didn't but we went around together anyway. Got into some nasty great adventures. And on the way we obtained some valuable secrets. And found out about the plot this one bastard had. He wanted to sacrifice our whole country to for a great power. And of course, being the bloody heroes, my brother I plus other allies wanted to stop him. It was a corrupted government so we revolted."

"What sort of power?" Harry asked, feeling that it was the least personal question.

"A Philosopher's Stone," Ed said after a pause. "A big one, enough power to create an immortal army." Harry looked like he was about to question but Ed raised a hand to stop him. "It's not the same as the Sorcerer's Stone you wizards have. It's made of alchemy and it required human souls as sacrifices."

Harry gasped, appalled and disgusted.

"We organised a coup. It was a success, I guess. He's dead now. But I couldn't stop the alchemy he did. I tried but it all just...blew up to put it simply."

Ed was scratching his left arm, digging his metal fingers into the thick cloth of black. Scratching was terrible to do with automail. The steel always slid off his skin, leaving an itch that could never be reprieved. He looked away, as it looking into the promised day again, with all its horror and tragedy.

"According to alchemy, I am defined as a homunculus. A..." he gulped. "...monster with a Philosopher's Stone core. But I'm not. I didn't choose this. I won't be it."

The red marks really itched. Especially his shoulder. The rate's he going he might tear a hole into his clothes. _Freaky, isn't it?_ Well that's what he is anyway, a _freak._

"No. No, Ed," Harry said firmly, trying to slap away the hands. The metal was so cold, so hard, how could it be bearable?

"They're..." Ed swallowed thickly, really looking away now, to anywhere, the ceiling, the walls, the shattered silver ornaments. "They're all in here now." He took a shaky breath. "I'll never use it. They'll be destroyed if I do. I won't let that happen."

"That's what makes you human," Harry assured. "You're a good person, Ed. So you're human."

Ed laughed bitterly. You have no idea, Harry. No idea. No one could hate me more than me.

"That guy, the guy who did that, he's the monster."

Ed finally turned to look at him, eyes grateful and lighted up like golden ambers.

"We both battled out demons today," Harry said. "And won."

"We sure showed them." A grim smile formed on Ed's face. "But there's still a whole war out there."

Harry grinned back. "We both have our enemies. And we'll beat them. Together, alright?"

_No longer alone._ The bastard's voice repeated over and over in his head. He couldn't get rid of it, right? He'd just have to bear with it. Ed laughed.

"My brother will like you, Harry. You're like his favourite kind of cat, black fur and green eyes."

Still warm and fuzzy while wet with rain, those cats were.

Soft chuckles floated through the room. The shattered silver ornaments just begun self repairing, little sparks of magic surrounding them as the cracks knitted together, making them whole and beautiful once again.

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"Well, Harry, Edward," Dumbledore said as the emerald flames retreated back through his robes into the fireplace. "I'm glad to say that none of your friends will suffer lasting damage from the night's events."

"Good," Harry said. Ed glared, first at Dumbledore, then at Hohenheim just standing at the doorway, then at Dumbledore again.

"Madam Pomfrey's patching everyone up. Sirius is currently in custody as investigations proceed. He will be cleared of all charges soon. But I'm afraid to say that he is at St. Mungo's in a coma."

"He will wake on his own," Ed said before anyone could exclaim. "Your magic will not do anything." He added hastily, "And make sure that Veil is destroyed or I'll see to it myself."

"Ah the Veil is a very mysterious magical artefact..."

Ed snorted. "It is a gateway to death, Grandpa. Destroy it."

Hohenheim cleared his throat. "I'll see to it." He made his way to the fireplace with much urgency, smiling weakly before disappearing into green flames. Ed blinked and looked away. The relationship between him and his father evolved from distant to slightly closer but very tense in a span of minutes. He might not feel as volatile as he did but still he feared he might do something stupid out of sheer awkwardness.

Dumbledore just had that irritating twinkle of curiosity.

"It is you that should be explaining," Ed said, suspicion and masked fury seeping into his tone.

The old man at least had the heart to look guilty. He knew how Dumbledore had been treating Harry and that avoidance and lack of guidance was a factor to what happened that night. That and pure heroic idiotism.

People could have died.

Ed listened with clenched fists as Dumbledore spoke of the connection Voldemort had with Harry that led to the dreams and the partial possession, Occlumency and the bloody goddamn Prophecy that was the sole cause of the bullshit. Ha, funny how Dumbledore doesn't trust anyone, even the supposed most trusted Chosen One who will one day save the Magical World.

His rage peaked when the blood protection was mentioned; how Harry was forced to stay with the Walrus family every summer which strengthened some magic mumbo jumbo. As he spoke of his mistakes, his care, his _love_, Ed snapped.

"If you cared for Harry, you will not have let him stumble into a battlefield half blind!" he growled. "Putting him under constant protection doesn't make him stronger! And you bullshit about him being the Chosen One and saving the world when he barely knows what's really going on!"

"Harry has much burdens already, all I wanted was to let him have his peace of mind..." Dumbledore replied calmly.

"Well, he's already dragged into warzone. Better spill than let him walk to his death," Ed ended cryptically.

Dumbledore sighed. "That was the flaw in my plan. An old man's mistake. I should have told you. The Prophecy, it spoke of a boy born as the seventh month dies that would vanquish the Dark Lord. That one would die in the hand of another as neither can live while the other survives."

By then Edward snorted loudly, thoroughly amused. So he wasn't lying when he insulted the Dark Lord.

"However it would seem that Voldemort did ultimately fail despite my mistakes. Not only did he lose the Prophecy, he lost his secrecy and a portion of his forces," Dumbledore said gratefully. "That is because Voldemort may have predicted my plan but he could not predict one thing. You, Edward."

Ed couldn't help but smirk. "But he knew of the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the title. "Ah he knew that there was an alchemist that could defy Equivalent Exchange long ago. And he followed that trail led to the Elric home in Munich. Hoheheim first noticed something amiss and sought my help, leading him into the magical community and the Order. Then all Voldemort knew was of the alchemist that fought for me and pursued him instead."

The expression on Ed's face was unreadable. All he could feel was the pounding of his heart and wave after wave of emotion.

"Even if he at last found out about you, you were the last thing he expected to be: a Homunculus," Dumbledore continued. "That could possibly be what he feared the most."

"They say the only one Voldemort feared was you," Ed countered weakly, staring at the fireplace as if hoping that Hohenheim would emerge from emerald flames so he could readjust the bastard's nose again and demand an explanation.

"Voldemort fears many things. The Prophecy and Harry which all stemmed from his one true fear of being beaten. He is not invincible. He knows that thus strived to ensure no one else did. He tortured, killed and even defied death just to prove that he is without weakness. But he is with weakness."

"Horcrux," Ed whispered. The word left a spongy feeling underneath his tongue.

Dumbledore's blue eyes suddenly lost its spark, widening in shock and possibly terror and suspicion. "My boy, how did you know?"

"Voldemort created a Horcrux, possibly more. The ghosts mentioned it." He swallowed thickly, rubbing his forehead with a thumb and finger. "I can...feel it. My blood...it boils for it. It craves..." He cut himself off, torn gloved hand covering his mouth like he was attempting not to barf.

"What's a Horcrux?" Harry asked.

Edward's hands sharply moved to cross, pressing into his stomach. "Fragmented soul. I don't know why they cause such a reaction. Just being near one even in its body makes me want to...eat..." _Everything._

Dumbledore nodded, as if he understood the predicament, the monstrosity of the matter. "Do you know the history of the Humunculi?"

Edward thought for a moment. "Some. The library was never really detailed about them."

Dumbledore took a breath, as if preparing for a long explanation. "When Homunculi roamed the earth, they were few, two or three, maybe more but there were no signs. And nothing of magic could hurt them, and even if it did they could not be killed. So the Ministry had an agreement with them, to prevent them from hurting anyone. Dementors were first created then to serve two purposes.

"First to suck the souls of criminals to give to the homunculi as peace offerings. In return, the homunculi blended in with muggles or wizards and never hurt them. Second, they served as a warning as Homunculi's only vulnerability lied with the Dementor's Kiss. It was never confirmed that it could kill them, but it was a well enough precaution. The Homunculi lived peacefully for centuries."

"Then why did they start fighting?" Harry asked.

"Some said they got bored. Some said they were threatened or tempted by Grindelwald. They disappeared before answering any questions," Dumbledore said solemnly.

Edward's hands fell to his sides. He almost laughed. He could for once sympathise with those bloodthirsty creatures. Wrath, Pride, Sloth, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Envy. There were reasons to why they became who they were. And for once it made sense, why there was always this shred of humanity beneath their murderous shells. Their simple desire to be human, for love, companionship, worth, fulfilment.

"He was never a kind 'master'," Ed said simply. "They fought for freedom: the right to speak, the right to live and the right to die."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "I understand. Homunculi were first and foremost known to be associated with Death. They were Death's loyal servants, which in lies their duty to retain the balance of life and death. Those that tried to cheat Death would be put down by the Homunculi. Thus led to the...attraction to Horcruxes." His damn sparkly eyes shone with curiosity again. "So what are you fighting for, Edward?"

Curiosity never sated.

Ed shrugged.

Dream on.

"So where are these Horcruxes?" Edward demanded.

Dumbledore chuckled and decided to take a seat behind his desk. "I heard that Voldemort kept them hidden, protected with various spells and enchantments."

"Any clues?"

"Maybe a few."

Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, Harry, you handed me the first proof that Voldemort did make a Horcrux." Dumbledore walked to his desk, opening the top drawer and pulling out a thin book. It couldn't be a book anymore in fact; someone stabbed a hole through the pages.

"Tom Riddle's diary?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore laid it on the table for everyone to see. "Only hosting a fragment of Voldemort's soul allowed it to have the power to control the mind of Ginny Weasley," Dumbledore explained. "But it has been destroyed. The soul couldn't have survived without its container."

Ed could hear the hissing. It was always there in the background, sounding as ordinary as gas leaking slowly from a balloon. Like a snake, lying in wait, fangs oozing with venom, ready to sink into an unsuspecting victim. The feeling of the Philosopher's Stone coursing through his veins was soon becoming familiar. The heat and intensity. And the voices in his head; sometimes screaming, sometimes crying. But now they spoke as one, clearly. _You know what to do. You know the array._

His flesh shoulder was itching again.

_Do it._

"Not dead," Ed muttered, reaching to scratch but hesitating, knowing it would be useless. "Inactive, but alive. The array..." Resistance is futile. This is your job. This is who you are now. You are the array. The circle.

"Give it to me," Ed said. He was getting urgent, it was really itching now. "Hold it out."

The array. Transmute. Do it.

He clapped his hands together, like he was in prayer.

The marks glowed and red lightning lit the book where his fingers grazed. It flared, splitting through the black cover and every bit of yellowish parchment. Ed could hear laughter. Laughter, a child's glee.

"Drop it!" Ed yelled and the old wizard did, jumping back against his chair. His skin was sizzling now, a mild, manageable pain. Because someone, Someone, was very, very pleased. As the book hit the floor, the alchemic reaction spread and the ground split like a fluttering eyelid. The eye that blinked, opening. The book fell through the pupil, disappearing into a bottomless abyss. The eye remained, its absolute blackness displaying the knowledge, the sheer, brutal Truth.

Truth's eye. The Gate's eye. The eye, its sides turned up. Extremely pleased then.

The eye closed and everything just returned to what it had been. Even the chilly breeze was gone, the room returning to its regular temperature in a split second.

Ed was the first to recover, dusting off his hands with a smirk on his face.

"Well, that's done. How many more do you have, Grandpa?"

While Harry remained shell-shocked, Dumbledore was bloody fascinated. His eyes were twinkling so brightly, he looked partially insane. He was always known as eccentric, having an unhealthy interest with the curious things. And that by far was bewitching. Spellbinding.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued. "That was the only one I have found. And I wonder where it went."

Ed smirked. "Back to where it belonged." He could almost jump for joy. "He's pretty darn happy about it, probably won't bug me for a while!" He felt fired up, determination coursing through him as he finally knew what he was looking for, what direction to go, what he would do to get what he wanted. There was pure certainty that his wish would finally be granted.

"Alright, I'll start searching for the rest during the summer. Could use a week's vacation though; Alfrons must be dying to wring my neck for disappearing off the face of the earth," he rambled.

"It will be an extremely long journey, Edward," Dumbledore said gravely. "We'll need to dive into Tom Riddle's dark past to search for answers."

"I'll be out there actually looking then," Ed snapped.

"Wait," Harry spoke. "Does that mean that you're not coming back to Hogwarts next year?"

"Don't see the need to."

"What about NEWTS?" he exclaimed.

"I have no use for wizardry actually." Ed scratched the back of his head. "I came here for the library and since I cleaned it out months ago..." He cut himself off. "I am not going to be cooped up in this damn building for another year!"

Harry seemed hurt and guilt pooled in Ed's gut.

"Look, I want to travel like I did before. I need the adventure," Ed said clearly and firmly. "And before you say that you want to come with me I'm telling you that you need your education. You want to be an Auror right? You can't give up that dream just to chase around bits of a madman's soul. Mouldy is not worth that."

"What about you?" Harry retorted.

Ed chuckled. "Please. Given my undisclosed age, I should be married with children by now," he snorted. "Like that's going to happen. Besides, I quit school when I was nine because it was too stupid for me."

Dumbledore finally interjected when Harry looked like he was going to argue. "I will need someone with me, Harry. I am an old man who needs all the help he can get." Ed held back a snort as Harry backed down reluctantly. He could see the emotion simmering behind those green orbs (like how Ed had been angry when he himself was treated like a child), and knew that this wasn't the end of it.

But now Ed clenched his fists and held his head high.

"Voldemort is weak. He will never win the game. He is a coward. He's afraid of death, afraid that one might have the power to kill him. Because of the actions he took and will take, actions of a coward, he cannot win."

That was the final assurance of the night.

Truth was just laughing his head off throughout.

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**Hi**

**Sorry for the wait! This chapter's long, but I had a few problems with it which frustrated me so I kept putting it off. Sorry! I kept seeing plot holes and stuff I forgot so I really need your help. If there's anything weird-ish or missing or wrong, please drop me a review/PM. Thanks!**

**Well, just one more chapter with the epilogue and that's the end of the first book. That will be up really soon.**

**Ok this will be a short AN because you'll see the epilogue soon. Please review! Thanks!**

**ssapphireangel**


	22. Epilogue

**Epilogue **

The end of the school year came just around the corner. The Daily Prophet was a good laugh, everyone was soon released from Madam Pomfrey's clutches and Ed was still doing his detention with Severus. It became well known that Professor Snape hated Ed more than anyone he ever met (even Harry) and cursed him with eternal detention when Ed was actually telling him more about alchemy while learning extra about potions.

He used that time to check his automail too. "I'm surprised, my arm never comes out roughly unscathed after some reckless battle," he would mutter. "Who knows how many concussions Winry gave me for this piece of junk. Never should have given her that wrench."

And that was the start of many random conversations with the cold, heartless Snape.

"I've decided that my nickname of Voldemort will be Mouldy-bastard. Because he's a bastard that's so old he should be moulding by now," Ed said one night.

"By that logic you're moulding as well," Snape replied, not even looking up from his work.

"But I'm awesome. As for Mouldy, he's..." Ed paused. "A piece of bread."

There was no laughter. Snape was sneering just a tiny bit.

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People worry. Maybe a little too much. Those of the DA group that went to the Ministry just gravitated towards Ed. He was in the hospital wing for a short while for few injuries; mostly internal wounds (damn you Truth). The red markings refused to fade away despite the amount of soap he used and while some avoided him like plague, terrified of what evil that had befallen him, his friends just hovered around him, concerned. They threw dirty glares at everyone who gossiped under their breaths.

They were haunted, by the fight and terror, and by his anguished screams that night.

He told them part of the truth, just to give them some peace of mind.

It's not like they didn't already know what he was without him verbalising it. But it was good, to speak as they listened, only to receive a hug or a punch in the shoulder.

They didn't need to be assured that he wouldn't eat them. They just wanted to know that the 'alchemy thingy' didn't hurt him anymore.

That he wasn't suffering anymore.

So when he broke the news that he was leaving Hogwarts, there was a mixture of shock and sadness in the air. But strangely – acceptance.

"Now that you said it," Ginny told him. "It's sort of expected. You never did enjoy going to classes."

"And you didn't need or care for lessons. I never saw anyone do homework so quickly and still get them all correct," Hermione added. "You weren't really happy here. Like you didn't belong."

"Yeah, you were a bloody asshole half the year round!" Ron exclaimed. "No offence."

Ed laughed. "I admit that was a rough patch. The DA helped though," he said earnestly. "Something to look forward to when I come back to visit." He smiled. "So it wasn't like I wasn't happy or didn't belong all the time."

"Remember to come back so I can braid your hair," Luna told him in her usual airy voice. "The Jarinbolfs love it so much."

The conversation soon turned to Umbridge and the time she spent with the centaurs.

Harry had left discreetly in the middle of it.

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Harry was sulking. That was the only thing to describe it (pouting was too childish). He didn't understand. It was like they wanted Ed to leave. They can't just let him go like that. He got even more frustrated when he realised that what they said was actually true.

As he entered the Entrance Hall he didn't spot Malfoy and his goons, being so deep in thought.

A wand was stabbed in his direction and Malfoy said in a low voice, "You're dead, Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I'm going to make you pay for what you did to my father," he snarled. "You wait..."

"Fuck off, Malfoy." He heard a voice behind him. "Harry," Ed was approaching him with those blazing eyes and mouth in a straight line. He just growled at Malfoy and dragged Harry away, pulling him into the first empty classroom.

"What's wrong?" he demanded. "If it's about me leaving..."

"Voldemort's my responsibility!" Harry interrupted.

"Why do you keep thinking that?" Ed snapped.

"It's my fault he's back!" Harry burst out. "My fault everyone got hurt at the Ministry! That you and Sirius almost DIED!"

Ed was silent for a while, maybe stunned, maybe contemplating. His eyebrows were furrowed but eyes seemed to be searching Harry's face. He sighed.

"I'm not going to say that it was not your fault," he said carefully. "But we all have to carry some blame. I could have taught you Occlumency better, persuaded you not to go or tried to get help or something." He ran his left hand through his hair. "But that's over and we shouldn't dwell on it. Just be glad that everyone's fine. And learn from the mistakes, as cliché as that sounds."

Harry grunted, fists clenched and still so troubled.

"And Mouldy's not your responsibility." Ed paused. "He may have done many things to you, but you don't have to think that he owes you something. He doesn't have anything of yours. So don't go looking for a fight because of some fucking prophecy. You don't owe him that. And you don't owe anyone that.

"Don't let anyone or anything, especially a ball of fog, tell you what to do. You decide for yourself and decide what you _want_. And I seriously doubt that you want to fight a war and have everyone depend on you because you're some Chosen One bullshit. End of speech."

Harry smiled weakly. "So you're just telling me to stay out of trouble?"

Ed chuckled. "Doubt that will happen."

"Have you told them about the Horcruxes?" Harry asked.

"No just that I'm doing something for Dumbledore. I talk too much already, it's your turn. You guys could go look in the school for clues and stuff!"

"I don't see why you can't just stay."

"This is the only way, Harry. I need to get my brother back." Ed's eyes dulled. "It's the only way."

"Does it have something to do with Voldemort?"

"Everything. We are connected, not like you and him, but connected. I can't tell you anything but that he will be dead at the end." There seemed to be a dark aura around Ed which seemed to make his bright crimson marks creep out of his collar and glow. "Truly dead."

Harry's eyes widened. But even as the thought of Ed killing someone scared him, he knew that it must happen. Besides, Lord Voldemort was meant to be dead years ago, he was no longer human, no longer part of this world and he had to go.

"Will you promise me something, Harry?" Ed asked as they were walking to the Gryffindor common room.

"Yeah?"

"You, the DA, all of you...promise me you'll all get stronger. Strong enough to beat anyone who messes with you." Ed was looking away, sometimes down at his feet, sometimes to the stone walls.

He was thinking of Maes Hughs, of Alphonse, of Amestris, of everyone Truth took away, afraid. Afraid to lose all that he had grown to love.

"And send a Blast Ended Skrewt after the DA once in awhile so that they don't go soft."

Harry laughed softly. "Sure thing, Ed."

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"You're taking the Hogwarts express with us?"

"Yeah, I heard that the Order was going to confront your Walrus family. That's a laugh I'm not going to miss. Besides, they're even more suspicious of me now and it'd be nice to see them squirm."

"..."

"Close your mouth, Harry and don't look so surprised. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"So you're going back to Privet Drive?"

"Yep, I have explanations to give and coddles to receive from the biggest mother hen in the whole world."

"Then what?"

"I'll be performing my 'duty' I suppose, need to find the location of the other Horcruxes as soon as possible."

"Duty, Ed?"

"Just something to pass the time while I plan my one-man rebellion against my higher-ups."

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King's Cross Station was as busy as ever. The noise level on platform nine-and-three-quarters just rose steadily as parents embraced their children and students chatted about their year. Friends made plans for the summer and there was a certain toad looking rather lost on the black tiles. Smoke escaped in wisps from the steam engine, the red and black train as shiny as ever. The sky was a bright blue, not a cloud present, a warning for the future heat wave.

Ed was thoroughly enjoying himself, seeing people turn shades of colours he never thought existed. Most of the Order was wary and calm, giving Ed friendly handshakes and pats on the back. Ed gleefully documented Mad-Eye's twitching in his mind, how that rotating eye whirled as if trying to glimpse him performing some wrongdoing. The ex-Auror was positively seething, growling under his breath and glaring daggers.

Well, meeting the Walrus family was even more entertaining. Mr. Dursley was flinching away, terrified. He muttered 'freaks' once and jumped a few inches away when Remus heard and glowered back. Ed half expected him to fish flop out of the station screaming.

Ed waved to Harry as he hurried behind his family. "I still expect to be at the Order meetings. We still have a deal going on," he said to Mad-Eye.

"I don't trust you," Mad-Eye snarled.

"It's mutual," Ed replied nonchalantly, turning and sauntering off, swinging the small suitcase in his right hand.

He weaved through the people for a few minutes eyes darting around the large station before he saw a figure looking rather lost and confused, his glances alternating from his watch to the train on the ninth platform.

"Alfrons!"

A straw coloured head turned, impossible blue eyes widening with familiarity and joy.

"ED!"

**Hi again**

**It's finally finished! YAY! It was really a rollercoaster and my updates are so irregular that I bet you thought I abandoned...but I won't! There will be a sequel and I planned this to be a trilogy but I just wanna say a big THANK YOU for reading, loving, reviewing, alerting, favouriting this story. Thanks for putting up my horrible updating and sticking with this story till the end. And thanks for enjoying my writing and my torture of Ed. **

**Even though this ended on a rather positive note, Ed's journey will only get tougher. Truth and Mouldy will not be easy to beat and I have many crazy ideas. There's more angst up ahead...**

**For a preview, the sequel will be in the Half Blood Prince book but I won't follow it as closely as I did for this story. Things have changed; Sirius didn't die and Ed's not going to be in Hogwarts most of the time. And the girl, Ai, from the first few chapters of this story will be more introduced and her background will be revealed. There's more about Truth's Game and the 5 sacrifices and that itself will not be pretty. It's Truth after all. Also, there'll be surprise characters. Not OCs, but surprise characters (heehee).**

**So I have plenty of work to do and thank goodness its school break now, hope to get a good start. THANKS once again for all the support and I hope you'll read and enjoy the sequel. I'll post a note when it's up.**

**If there're any questions, comments or anything you want to suggest for the next book, please drop me a review or a PM. Your reviews really keep me going :) I love them all. So please review lots!**

**ssapphireangel**


	23. Author's Note SEQUEL

**Author's Note**

**Hi **

**My sequel is finally up! It's called Resolution and Despair. I hope you'd enjoy it! **

**Also, I changed this story's title to Loss and Resolution (the first title was really something I chose because I had no idea what to name it and it was really bugging me).**

**Thanks again for all the support!**

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**

**ssapphireangel**


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